Merits
by moor
Summary: Zutara,Jetara. Modern Vampire AU. A scholarship-student in med school, Katara's writing a paper on porphyria, the 'vampire disease', and how it related to the legends of evil spirits in her tribe's lore. Zuko, a vampire, wants more.
1. Chapter 1

**Author: moor / beyondthemoor on LJ  
Title: Merits  
Genre: Romance/humour/vamp/Modern AU  
Fandom: Avatar: TLA  
Pairing: Zutara, Jetara  
Length: approx. 900 words  
Part: One  
Rating: T/M  
Disclaimer : "Avatar: The Last Airbender" and all related rights belong to their original creators… I am not among their ranks.  
AN: In response to****hyperroo**** 's vampire/Zutara challenge on LJ, I present… the following:  
**

* * *

"Merits" – Part One

Another dish whipped across the room, smashing into the wall just to the right of his head with a storm of shattered porcelain. The lightning outside the darkened windows brightened the room at the same time, and a second later, a loud boom of thunder shook the pair of snarling occupants.

Neither noticed.

"Of course not, why would it be important? I'm just 'some girl' right? I'm certainly not of any consequence to _you_!" The effort of hurling plate number four at the offending man's neck added a certain amount of emphasis on the last word.

"See this, this is why I didn't tell you! You're going crazy," he argued, dodging the projectiles easily.

"Oh no you don't, don't you dare put this back on _me_, mister!"

"I was trying to protect you!"

"Protect this, you lying hippopig!"

A glass splintered a cabinet door.

"Would you listen to yourself?" this time, he caught the plate in mid-flight. "Katara? _Katara!_"

It took Katara a second to realize it – she'd already launched another kitchen standard at him in the meantime, a coffee maker – and then she saw him catch the second, the blender, just as effortlessly. Her eyebrows furrowed slightly, though her anger remained. _How had he _done_ that? Must not be throwing 'em hard enough, _she decided, ready to redouble her efforts.

Then her eyes went from the coffee maker in his one hand, to the ridiculously heavy blender… food processor, actually… in his other.

_What the…_

It had taken all her might to launch them at him… and he was standing there as if she'd just tossed him a couple of tennis balls? He was better than she thought if he could catch them so easily.

Her chest heaved with the effort of controlling her temper and racing heartbeat. She'd completely lost track of time when they'd started into their argument… But what had he meant, a minute ago?

_I was trying to protect you. _

Curiosity warred with pride.

She clenched her fist around the knife block. One good shot at his heart, that's all she needed. The jerk deserved a good beating, keel haul, and flaying-- but she'd settle for murder.

For his part, Zuko stood, waiting tensely a short distance away, but patiently.

And very, very, handsomely.

_Damnit all to Hell…_

Taking a deep, calming breath and letting it out slowly, she glared at him.

He glared back.

_... protect you..._

Curiosity won.

"What… do you mean?"

She lowered her arms and weapons as she spoke, and wondered what she'd do if she were to actually believe him. What would happen… what would happen to… She kept her eyes on him.

He waited before answering, his own eyes lowering away from her a moment. She felt her heart tighten. _He couldn't have been…_ There's no way he could have been telling her…

"What did you mean, 'protect me'?" she asked, more forcefully. Putting a meager amount of trust in him – and herself, considering how violent she'd been a minute before – she stepped towards him, stopping less than a meter from his angry stance. Her feet made a tinkling, crunching noise as she crossed the ruined linoleum. The victims of her aggressive tantrum littered the entire room in a dangerous mess.

The storm continued outside, not yet ready to follow their tempering example.

Zuko's shoulders, so straight all the time with purpose and pride, lost their squared edges for a moment as he exhaled lowly. To Katara, he looked… tired. Still tense, as though he were controlling some unseen force within himself that threatened to break free and take over, but… worn, somehow, too. Her heart pulled to him, sympathising minutely, before returning to the protective cage of her chest.

This wasn't one of their comfortable silences, she knew it; but she didn't know if she was ready for it to end with an answer yet, either. The things he'd said to her, the way he'd said them…Unease snaked through her belly, and she finally started putting some consideration into his confession -- the trigger that had set off the tableware massacre.  
While she reflected, topaz eyes flicked over her disheveled, wavy hair, her flushed face…. All the way down to her smooth, graceful neck where her pulse beat visibly.

And stayed.

She noticed the movement of his gaze. And its focus.

Her heartbeat ratcheted back up again, though not in anger this time.

He swallowed very slightly, but she didn't miss it. His mouth tightened, and he placed the appliances on the counter without a sound before turning back to her.

_He knows._

The crunching noise was very soft, but it was loud enough to signal the first steps of her retreat. She could smell her own blood from her feet, cut and scratched from the glass shards everywhere.

His eyes never left her, and the corner of his mouth curled upwards.

For the first time, she noticed the slight indentation…

He hadn't been lying.

_Oh… my… spirits…_

Fear, icy cold, sprang from her stomach and flooded her every sense when his hungry eyes met hers. And stayed.

Her heartbeat stopped when he leapt at her.

* * *

**TBC.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Author: moor / beyondthemoor on LJ  
Title: Merits  
Genre: Romance/humour/vamp/Modern AU  
Fandom: Avatar: TLA  
Pairing: Zutara, Jetara  
Length: approx. 1000 words  
Part: Two  
Rating: M  
Disclaimer : "Avatar: The Last Airbender" and all related rights belong to their original creators… I am not among their ranks.  
AN: In response to** **hyperroo**** 's vampire/Zutara challenge, I present… the following:  
**

* * *

"Merits" -- Part Two

_Three months earlier._

"You did."

"Did not."

"Did."

"Did not! Toph, would you stop it! People are staring…"

"Katara, please, do you honestly think you can hide something like that? From me?"

The darker-skinned girl grit her teeth as she fake-smiled at her friend (not that her friend could see that, but the other patrons staring at them could), and tried to muffle their quarrel between the campus library's bookstacks.

"Toph…" growled Katara in warning, putting the next book she needed on top of her research pile.

"Oh my god, no! Staring at us! With their eyes!? What should we do!?" Eager to feed Katara's paranoia, Toph grabbed the nearest book off the shelf and opened it randomly before darting behind the massive cover. "Quick, act natural!" she stage-whispered, and started pretending to read aloud in a pompous lecture-voice. "… which is why the Genettian theory of adaptation of novel to film left much to be desired in the new age of technology-influenced media interrelations…"

Sighing at her friend's antics behind the (incredibly poor choice of) reading material, Katara rolled her eyes and decided to move on down the row to the next few items on her list. Toph kept up.

"So, was he any good?"

"Would you stop it!"

"Heh, I can't see you, but I know you're blushing."

"TOPH!"

"Shhhh!"

"Sorry!" Katara went even redder as she whispered apologies to the people nearby who'd hissed the warning at her. Fellow grad students, but luckily not from her department. That was a small relief.

"So, you meeting him again?" wheedled Toph, now flipping absently through the book, holding it high above her head. A man walking behind them caught sight of the illustrations, paused, and skipped around them quickly, trying to hold his crimson-tinted colouring at bay. Katara didn't even notice him.

"… We'll be out tomorrow night. Studying…"

"Way to go, Katara! Score!"

"_Shhhhhh!"_

"Hey, she's finally dating again! She's just had a 2-year dry spell-- Come on, congratulate her!" volunteered Toph, cheering her mortified friend enthusiastically.

A number of catcalls and whistles serenaded them as they walked through a corridor, while others chuckled and a few even clapped. Two guys offered their phone numbers 'in case things didn't work out'. Toph clapped the two brave guys on the back and confirmed she'd pass the numbers along. For a fee.

Katara shook with embarrassed anger as they approached the self-check out and security scan.

"Toph, I'm going to kill you…"

"So, do I know him?"

Katara nearly dropped her book in surprise.

_Toph didn't know who?_ But she'd thought…

She handled the tome carefully as she waved it under the scan wand, thoughts racing as the delicate 'beep' sounded, indicating the book was processed to her account.

"Oh, I've known him for a bit… I don't think you've ever met him, though."

"As long as he's got you in this good a mood, I think he deserves a medal. So, did I tell you Sokka learned a new trick? The other day, when he and I were--."

Katara's stack of books flew off the counter, nearly knocking her friend down in the process. "Toph!" _Ohthisissonothappening._ "We've known each other a long time, and you're practically a sister to me; but Sokka is a brother to me. That is way too much information. _Way too much._ Personal boundaries, ok? I don't need to know what you and my brother are doing. Please don't ever tell me anything about my brother… like that. Otherwise, I'm there for you whenever you need me."

She kneeled to pick up the books, leaving Toph to scratch her head in confusion.

"I meant a new trick with his car – but thanks for exposing another weakness for me to exploit. Man, it's like Christmas today! You're the best, Katara!"

A few moments later, when they'd gained several pounds in reading matter, they made their way to the security station to have their bags checked then towards the exit.

One of Katara's professors walked in, just as they passed the magnetic bars – and the alarm started going off.

"Oh, hello, Katara! Already preparing for your presentation?" Her professor smiled cheerfully at her with all… eight of his crooked teeth.

"Just about there, Doc Bumi," she agreed, already emptying her bag for the security personnel to check. "These alarms always get me, though – how about you?"

"You mean they don't just go off for me to welcome me to this wonderful building? I'll have to have them change the ringtone… I hear that Tustin Jimberlake's pretty popular these days…"

Katara chuckled faintly, unsure if he was serious or not. Strangely enough, it wasn't hard for her to imagine Bumi getting jiggy with it as he danced into the library to "Bringin' Smexy Back"… It wasn't hard to imagine it, but it was definitely going to take a considerable amount of brain-bleach to get it out.

She felt herself go pale.

"…Ma'am, you forgot to sign this one out," said the security guard politely, trying to catch her disturbed attention. Something about the way he said it, though... He sounded odd. She looked over at him warily.

"Would you like me to… scan this one in for you?" he offered.

Her palor dissolved, Katara went as red as her t-shirt.

"Toph!"

"Oh! Katara, that's an excellent book! I hadn't realized you'd changed your topic though. Are you planning on giving a presentation with, ah, visual aids, too?" Katara wanted to drop into a hole in the ground, right then and there. Her professor, of all people, had seen her with this. She might as well have been walking around with a sign that read _"Lend me your pr0n!"_

Toph caught on to Bumi's enthusiasm, and for the first time in her life, took an interest in the written word.

"What did I pick up, anyway?"

"…_The History of the Penis: Super Special Illustrated Pop-Up Version_," said the security guard in clipped tones. He was trying hard not to laugh. Really, he was. "_Volume 8_."

Katara suddenly realized why the man had sped around them earlier.

Covering her face with her hand, she waved at the security guard. "No thank you…"

"It's like Christmas and Hannukah together!" whooped Toph. "Hey, come on, sign it out for me! Aang and Sokka and I can –."

"Only if you promise me you are not going to go corrupting minors with it again."

"… you know, I bet it looked fine on the shelf, too," sighed the younger woman in disappointment.

* * *

**TBC.**

**AN: Kudos to those who catch the "Dramacon" reference…**


	3. Chapter 3

**Author: moor / beyondthemoor on LJ  
Title: Merits  
Genre: Romance/humour/vamp/Modern AU  
Fandom: Avatar: TLA  
Pairing: Zutara, Jetara  
Length: approx. 2500 words  
Part: Three  
Rating: M  
Disclaimer : "Avatar: The Last Airbender" and all related rights belong to their original creators… I am not among their ranks.  
AN: In response to ****hyperroo**** 's vampire/Zutara challenge, I present… the following.  
**

* * *

**"Merits" -- Part Three**

_The next night…_

"_See you tonight."_

Smiling, Katara tucked the note back into her bag and waited by the tea house door.

An arm reached out from behind her, and took her by the elbow.

"Whoa, whoa, hey, it's me," the dark-haired man soothed when she jerked back, surprised.

"Oh, sorry, you startled me," pushing her long straightened hair from her eyes, she smiled engagingly. "So, you wanna go in?"

"Lead the way."

Ditching his toothpick in a standing ashtray by the door, Jet followed Katara into the establishment's candle-lit obscurity.

* * *

_(in another part of town)_

"So she hasn't mentioned who yet?"

"Not to me."

"It's probably fine, Toph."

"Something's wrong, Sokka," Toph jutted her chin out stubbornly. "I can feel it."

From underneath the BMW's hood, Sokka's shoulders slumped. He was rolling around on a dolly, so it was difficult to do, but he did it.

"Look, she knows what she's doing. As much as I hate to admit it, it isn't always my business to know her business."

Toph's face darkened.

"She must have gotten really good dirt on you for you to give this up THAT easily," she said. The young woman had spent many years at an all-girls' school and had mastered the art of passive aggression.

Without thinking, Sokka rose up too quickly and ended up whacking his head on the undercarriage when he reacted, "I'll have you know, that's a total—," _BANG_, "OW!"

He could practically hear her smirk from her leaning-against-the-hood position above him.

"You did that on purpose," he groused, rubbing the tender spot. It was going to bruise, he knew it, and he was supposed to have a date the next night. Now how was he supposed to go? With a bandage around his forehead? Not cool.

"Oops, my bad…"

"It's more sincere when you aren't chuckling," he muttered.

* * *

The air was chilly when they left the teahouse, the ethnic musicians who'd been playing for the patrons filing out just after them with their instruments.

"They were really good, weren't they?" remarked Katara as the talented group hopped into their van in high spirits. She pulled her scarf tighter and burrowed into her jacket. She really had studied a bit… until the music started. The meager effort buoyed her guilty conscience and warmed her in the chilly outdoors.

"Yeah, the drummer had some solid beats." He put his arm around her and pulled her closer, nuzzling her neck. "You cold?" he asked softly in her ear.

She shivered, and felt her face grow a bit warm. "I guess I should have brought my tea 'to go'," she joked. The cold didn't usually get to her, but Toph's words had put her on edge about everything. She must have worn herself out with worrying.

"My place is closer – did you want to stop in there? To warm up before heading home?"

She felt him take her hand in his, and twine their fingers together. He was very warm. The night air around her embraced her suddenly, and felt much colder, almost more dangerous, than it had a moment before. It wouldn't be so bad to stop in, for just a few minutes… _And I did study… I really did… I can keep this break up a bit longer. I earned it. _

And then she remembered the presentation she had coming up, and groaned.

Immediately misinterpreting her reaction, Jet stiffened and started removing his arm, not saying a word.

"Oh, no, Jet, it's not you! I have a presentation due soon, and I know I have marking to do before I turn in tonight," she said sourly, before grabbing for the front of his jacket and facing him with pleading blue eyes. "I'm sorry, it's just bad timing on my part. I was having such a good time tonight… with you… I kind of forgot about it until now…" she stammered, and ended on a disappointed tone. She _had_ been having a wonderful time. She couldn't believe she was feeling so free, just from a date. How old was she? And she'd completely forgotten about her work and the time—how often did that happen?

"No, no, it's ok, I get it. I'll take you straight home."

"Jet, I'm sorry! I really do have a--," he wasn't listening. She growled angrily in frustration as he kept walking away in front of her. He was leaving her behind. It was getting colder.

Stupid guys and their fragile egos. There was no point in being honest with them if they were going to take everything personally. Grumpy at her own reaction, she was torn – a few more minutes of 'breaktime' or accomplishing all her work and getting to bed at an almost reasonable time? Both would feel pretty good. Life or school? Life or school? Lifeorschool?

Why was he making her choose, damn him! Life or school?

"Argh!"

She stopped walking, and after a few more steps, he came to a halt, too.

Taking a deep breath, she relaxed and put herself in his shoes for a moment. She knew he was upset; she'd feel upset if someone had rejected her the way she had just done, too. He didn't deserve that, not after how kind he'd been to her tonight.

"Jet."

He glanced back at her over his shoulder. His eyes were hurt.

She sighed in resignation. _Another all-nighter…_

Smiling ruefully to herself, she caught up with him and put his arm around her shoulder again.

"So… what kind of tea do you have at your place?"

He couldn't help smiling down at her, and all the warmth came flooding back. "Whatever we can find in the corner store on the way there."

With a playful shout, she punched him in the side. They were back on their way, cozying up with every block they traversed together.

"Thanks, I'll take you out next time," she teased, getting up from the couch to put her cup by the sink. "Want me to wash up before I go?"

A digital clock on one of the mis-matched end tables informed them both it was past 1am, far beyond Katara's usual bedtime. They'd fallen into a light sleep after cuddling up with their tea.

"No, s'ok," Jet replied, still on the couch. He was the picture of relaxation, with his comfy loose shirt and jeans, his socks kicked off, and a blanket placed carefully across his middle. It was still warm from Katara sharing it with him a moment earlier. He leaned to the side and yawned, stretching his legs.

"I'll make it up to you," she promised.

He propped himself up on his elbow, watching her. "…You don't have to go."

Katara paused on her way to the apartment door, considering his offer.

"I'll make it up to you," she repeated.

"Do you want me to walk you home?"

Wrapping her scarf around her neck and pulling her boots on neatly, she shook her head, smiling. "No, I'll be fine. It's 1am on a weeknight – seriously, who else is stupid enough to be up this late? And the way is well-lit. I'll be fine. You stay and rest! You have to be at work first thing." She looked over at her boyfriend warmly. He'd worked so hard to become a better person since their first encounter: he now held a steady job, he'd straightened out his personal issues – or, wasn't hiding them from her anymore, at least, -- and had spent the entire night trying to relax and make her feel like she was worth a million bucks. She promised herself to make it up to him soon.

"I can take a sick day, or head in late if you need me to--."

"You. Work. Morning." _Or else_, her glare reminded him severely.

He sighed, slumping down on the couch. She didn't doubt he'd sleep there that night.

"Yes, ma'am."

Blowing him a kiss, she grabbed her knapsack and bid him goodnight.

He was asleep before she closed the door.

She was nearly home.

A few more steps, and she would have been at her own apartment, safe and sound, cuddling under warm blankets and drifting to sleep on happy dreams made of the pleasant evening's memories.

A few more steps, that was all.

But it was too far, just out of reach.

"… Miss, you dropped something!" called a muffled voice from behind her, nearly causing her to slip on the icy sidewalk in surprise.

"What?" she turned, and spied the young man, just as bundled-up as she was, approaching her at a faint jog. He was holding out her pocketbook.

"You dropped this about half a block back, but I didn't want to startle you. Here you go, have a safe trip home!" His wide frame blocked out most of the light from the nearby streetlamp, and his dark green jacket and scarf concealed most of his face and body. No wonder she could barely make out what he was saying.

"Thank you," she said politely, reaching out to accept it from him. "I didn't realize I dropped it." Anxious to get home so she could get out of the cold, she took a step towards him.

He held the book just out of her reach. "Don't I get to know your name?"

Her anxiety slowly uncoiled in her stomach, and gradually she felt her heart beat speed up in warning. Something wasn't right.

"Sorry, I'm late already, my friends are waiting for me to get in. Thank you very much for your help, I really appreciate it. May I have my book, please?"

He held it out towards her an inch. "Maybe another time."

_Run_, a tiny voice inside her called out. But Katara's stubborn side took over, ignoring it.

"Give me back my book. I need to get home."

He didn't say anything, but looked at her with dark, unsettling eyes.

Completely exasperated, Katara stomped her foot and glared at him now. "You can give me back my book, or I am going to take it from you, and I'm going to report you for harassment, Bucko!" she shouted, jabbing a finger at him.

He stood there, calmly, taking in her display of temper.

Still watching her.

"Ugh."

Katara snatched at the book, ripping it from the man's hands and marching away; she threw him a murderous look as she started up the steps to her apartment building.

From behind her, the man chuckled lowly, just loud enough for her to hear.

She felt the hair on the back of her neck stand up.

_Run,_begged her inner voice_, runrunrunrunrunrunrun_—

She leapt forward to yank open the security doors.

He was faster.

* * *

Another night out with… what was her name? Jin? Song? He couldn't remember. He went through them so quickly, he rarely bothered to learn their names anymore.

Not that it mattered, now that the interlude was over. (Or so he thought – who knew what went on in human girls' heads?)

It hadn't ended as well as he'd hoped, but it had done wonders for building her trust in him, which would pay off in the long run. In the meantime, he was left hungry.

He rolled the window down to listen for anyone else he could sate his thirst with, and heard the distinct sounds of a scuffle from the side alley, a few houses up. He slowed the car and pulled to the curb, hoping they would finish soon so he could choose the stronger one to feed on temporarily. His personal philosophy was to never get truly involved in the lives of his prey – gaining their trust to make them more willing was one thing, but taking any kind of active role or influence in their day-to-day living was too much trouble, too much risk.

So he crossed his arms in front of his chest, and waited for them to finish duking it out. It took him a moment to realize it was a man… and a woman.

"You scum-sucking excuse for a man!" she screamed indignantly. "How dare you attack me!"

Then came the 'oomphs' of a man groaning; he sounded like he was hunched over.

_Must've been going for the balls again. Crazy women always do that_, he thought to himself as he sat behind his steering wheel.

Then came more sounds of a woman punishing her aggressor.

"Take that! And that! And that! And that!..."

"And if you ever think of touching another woman again, so help me, I'll…"

"Ugh, you bleed a lot…"

"Yeah, you _better_ stay down!..."

From the car, the young-looking man couldn't help but smirk. Clearly, this man had underestimated his own prey.

"Oy! Janes, that you!" A second male voice joined the chorus of grunts. He sounded angrier than the first man, though.

"Miikei, d'j'you find'im?"

"Over 'ere, guys."

"Hey, who're you? What are you—hey, let go of me!"

The man in the car tensed. More sounds of a scuffle, and now jeers and deep-toned hostility wafted over on the cool air.

Apparently, the stupid man had a lot of friends. _No_, he amended mentally as his hands reached forward and gripped the steering wheel,_ accomplices_. This had been planned.

* * *

"If you even think about—Argh!" Katara's voice was cut off as the new leader grabbed her by the throat and started lifting her off the ground. She swung out and felt her kick reach around the side of his knee, throwing off his balance; in retaliation, he smashed her against the brick outer wall of a nearby garage structure. She saw stars, but continued snarling at him.

"You, pick him up; you two, we're bringing her inside…" ordered the smarmy thug, his grip tightening incrementally until her airway was cutoff.

"No…" she wheezed out, trying to claw his fingers off. Two men approached her and grabbed her legs to keep her from struggling.

Glancing back at her confidently, he raised both his eyebrows, and said one word, very calmly : "Yes."

The stars Katara had seen were joined now by encroaching darkness, and she fought to stay conscious despite what she was sure was at least a minor concussion.

"Let… me… go…"

Her sight was gone; so was her sense of touch. She wasn't even sure she was still holding on to his arm. She did her best to keep listening, refusing to give in.

The man tutted as if scolding a naughty child. "Tch-tch-tch-tch-tch, you nasty girl, this isn't the way a lady behaves."

Panic flooded her as she counted the sounds of the thugs. There were too many people. One she could handle—but how many were there now? Four? Five?

_Jet, someone, help me, please! _

"You're no _man_, either," she wanted to quip. She wasn't sure she'd said the words out loud. The darkness enveloped her. Everything was blurring out.

She must have said something, though, since he shook her hard enough to snap her head back against the wall again, and she fell to the ground.

She lost consciousness; as her senses abandoned her, the last thing she remembered was a faraway car door slam.

* * *

******TBC.**

******  
AN: I hope you guys are enjoying this new fic -- feel free to let me know what you think, I'd love to know! I've got a fair bit of this story written out already, so I'll try and update once or twice a week. Thank you very much for reading!**

******Originally posted 18 Jan 2008.**


	4. Chapter 4

**Author: moor / beyondthemoor on LJ  
Title: Merits  
Genre: Romance/humour/vamp/Modern AU  
Fandom: Avatar: TLA  
Pairing: Zutara, Jetara  
Length: approx. 1000 words  
Part: Four  
Rating: T  
Disclaimer: "Avatar: The Last Airbender" and all related rights belong to their original creators… I am not among their ranks.  
AN: In response to****hyperroo**** 's vampire/Zutara challenge, I present… the following.  
**

* * *

**"Merits" -- Part Four**

_The next day. _

Katara woke the next morning in her own room with a throbbing headache.

She was in her own bed, her own pyjamas, and her own ratty slippers were on the floor beside the nightstand.

There were no thugs.

"Ugh," rubbing at her eyes, she tried to piece together her crazy dream. Failing miserably and deciding sleep was the best medicine for nightmares, the med student rolled over for another forty winks, mumbling to herself. "Just a few more minutes… And Tylenol 3…" She snored faintly as she pulled the covers back up to her chin again.

_It was amazing what a pleasant night out did to a girl's dreams,_ she decided fuzzily. Armed thugs, dark alleys, gold eyes… Must've been an adventure dream, she decided.

_Golden eyes…_

_Sharp teeth._

Panic exploded through her from her alarm erupting a moment later; she screamed and nearly wet herself.

It stopped going off within a split second as she accidentally slammed it onto the floor from fright, effectively ripping its cord from the wall socket. Panting and shaking slightly, she glanced around the room.

She was alone.

Propping herself up on her elbows, Katara squeezed her eyes shut and held her head together. It felt so awful, it must be trying to break itself into pieces.

"_Ow…."_

The outline of the gold eyes hovered in her mind for a moment longer, then dissipated with the rest of the dream as the pain wiped it out.

Whatever Jet had put in that tea, she was never taking again, she decided. The images had seemed so real she had a damn headache from it. She'd tell him off something fierce the next time she saw him. Which just might be later that day, but so be it, it'd be fresher in her mind anyway! --Katara couldn't help moaning again -- what was left of it…

Taking another quick survey of the room, Katara listened carefully for any sign of an intruder, any indication the dream had been more than a dream, any hint that what she was remembering was real. She'd been almost certain there'd been…

"Ugh, wake up, Katara," she grumbled to herself as she ran a hand down her face. When she turned and threw her feet over the side of the bed to sit up, she couldn't help pausing and letting her feet hover before they touched ground. A tingle of unease prickled through her, warning her that she wasn't alone. For the first time in years, Katara felt like a child with night fears.

_Gonna check under the bed next? _Part of her inner-self mocked her childish behaviour.

"Get up and get to class," she ordered herself. "There's no such thing as monsters."

She moved slowly as she got up, and readied herself for class, then_clack-tchunk_ locked the door behind her as she left.

Assured she'd make it through the day, the man with the golden eyes waited another moment in the darkened closet to be sure she'd exited the hallway, then slipped out the door after her to carry on his way.

* * *

"HEY KATARA, HOW WAS YOUR NIGHT?"

"Toph, please, just a little quieter today?"

"WHAT WAS THAT? I DIDN'T HEAR YOU. DID YOU SAY YOU WANT ME TO TALK LOUDER?'

"I think a nuclear bomb went off in my head while I was sleeping – could you please shut up? Argh!" Katara winced and clutched at her hair as her reaction got the better of her. "You are so dead when I get over this…"

"Seriously, Katara, what the heck did you do? Booze usually hurts the front of your head, not the back. I know you wouldn't go near the hard stuff, what with school and all…"

"I think it's just too much caffeine and sleep deprivation," Katara cut her friend off. "I had tea at Jet's, and then I had this crazy dream when I got home – but I was so tired I didn't even remember getting home – and then there were these weird gold eyes staring at me, and then this big fight, and the next thing I know--."

Toph straightened a bit at Katara's last words. "Big fight? Are you sure it wasn't the radio leaking in to your dream?"

"What do you mean?"

She facepalmed herself. "You really have been out of it today, haven't you?" The younger woman groaned in frustration. Katara mimicked her, but for different reasons…

"There was this gang that was found just a few blocks from campus, in some kind of grow-op house or something. They'd thought it was just a run of the mill student ghetto, but somebody called the cops after a big fight in the middle of the night, and when the cops got there, all kinds of stuff turned up."

"Neighbours reported them?" Asked Katara, a funny feeling settling in her stomach. She was beginning to wonder if she was getting ulcers. Considering how hard she worked, it wasn't entirely impossible.

"Nope, anonymous tip off," remarked Toph in a bored tone. She reached for some of her snacks, spilling nuts over Katara's medical texts. The older girl brushed them off, thinking her own thoughts.

"Well… that… was probably the radio, you're right."

"Apparently there was a woman who was involved earlier that night, and she beat the crap out of one of the guys; but then he called in the rest. That's when the tip off came in, and the cops showed up. No one's sure who she was." Toph leaned back in her chair lazily, bouncing her foot in the air, her hands behind her head. "Heh, almost sounds like something you'd do, huh?"

"Hahahahahaha…haha..haaaahhh…" Katara's voice trailed off as she looked to the side. She'd lost track of when her head stopped hurting, but as Toph's words trailed off, she felt it explode again, and reached up to support herself. "That must've just been some crazy dream. Hey, next thing you know I'll be dreaming vampires came and saved me!"

Toph pulled at the sides of her mouth to show off her teeth. "Make sure he brushes first!"

"I'll be sure to pass that along…" Katara wondered how the Hell Toph knew so much about the incident, but decided to tack it up to her & Sokka listening to the police scanner for fun – and possibly profit – again. She prayed she wouldn't need to go bail them out of jail again any time soon.

Moving to the next book on her pile, Katara glanced at her notes.

Her topic, the medical truths behind the legends of a group of supposed blood-dependent creatures familiar in her tribe's old lore, stared back at her mockingly. It must be weighing more heavily on her than she'd realised, if it was creeping into her dreams. The tales and stories had been passed down for generations – and she'd decided during her 'elective' class to do a special project on the possible historical and medical circumstances surrounding the legends. It had started out as a fun project. But in light of the previous night's dream, it felt eerie, uncomfortable, … and familiar…

"Let's get coffee," she said, closing her book.

She needed a break.

* * *

******TBC**

******AN: Thanks for reading! I'll try and have another chapter up this weekend. (BTW, if you like this story, feel free to let me know -- I really appreciate reviews!)  
AN: Chapter posted 22 Jan 2008**_  
_


	5. Chapter 5

**Author: moor on / ****beyondthemoor**** on LJ  
Title: Merits  
Part : 5  
Genre: Romance/humour/vamp/Modern AU  
Fandom: Avatar: TLA  
Pairing: Zutara  
Length: 2000 words, approx.  
Rating: T  
Disclaimer : "Avatar: The Last Airbender" and all related rights belong to their original creators… I am not among their ranks.  
AN: In response to ****hyperroo**** 's vampire/Zutara challenge, I present… the following.  
**

* * *

**"****Merits" – Part Five**

_In class_

"Professor Kuruk?... Professor Kuruk?"

The inquisitive voice jarred Katara out of her reverie and she regarded the student who'd called her attention. He stood in front of her raised lab bench with the handout she'd distributed at the beginning of the class, wearing the most sympathetic, charming smile possible for a brown-noser.

"Yes? Sorry Ken, I was a bit distracted," she smiled, a bit embarrassed she'd been caught. It would be Ken who'd notice, too, of course.  
"Oh, no worries – I just wanted to make sure everything was ok," he said, and smiled back.

"Do you have any questions?"

"Nope! Just glad you're ok."

"Well… thank you, that's very nice. You can turn in the exercises when you're done."

"Ok."

The over-eager student sauntered back to his lab partner and they returned to the biology experiment she'd outlined for them.

Katara's smile took a critical dive towards a grimace, but she forced herself to maintain a professional façade. She was more than used to undergrads hitting on her to try and get better marks. While at times flattering, it got on her nerves and she found it insulting more often than not at this point in the game. Now that she had a boyfriend, she also found it a bit awkward.  
Well, sort-of boyfriend… Her shoulders sagged minutely as the recurring war-within-herself renewed its efforts. The only thing she'd been able to come up with to explain her complete lapse in memory of how she got home the other night was that Jet had slipped something into her tea… And considering his past, it wasn't such a difficult assumption to make. But why would he have done such a thing? He'd really straightened out – she'd thought.

Katara went back to her mental war of attrition. _Call him or don't call him? Was he guilty or innocent? _Was she justified in ignoring him, or completely insane at this point?

In her psyche, both sides battled to drive her to the brink of frustration, or madness, whichever succumbed first. She'd been giving Jet the cold shoulder for the past several days due to her own cowardice in confronting him. Every time she checked her phone she found another few voice or text messages – he was getting agitated, by the tone of the last few.

_Well, good for him, he deserved it for whatever the heck he tried to pull with that tea._ Her head still smarted at times, and she hadn't had a decent night's sleep since the crazy 'dream' incident. (Whether from stress or pain, she wasn't sure anymore.) Her sleep deprivation was making her edgy, and distracted; even her professors had remarked on her decrease in aptitude. Not good for a graduate student who depended on every penny of her scholarship…

Katara surveyed her group of lab students before starting on her usual 'walk about' to see if anyone had any questions or needed help, her mind straying back to the argument she'd had with Jet the week before.

"_So, what are we doing for you to 'make it up to me' tonight?" Jet had teased when he'd called her the day after their date._

"_How about you never making me that disgusting tea again? What did you put in it? Do you know what kind of crazy hallucinations it gave me?" She'd ripped into him without even giving him a chance to answer between questions, forcing him into a defensive position. "Jet, if I get caught with anything like that, my career, my entire life, is ruined! What were you thinking!?"  
"Whoa, Katara, what are you talking about?" he'd asked, taken completely by surprise._

"_Don't try to play me, Jet – I know what you used to do, and I believed you when you said you'd changed for the better. But whatever you put in that drink that night, I could have been seriously hurt. I really don't know what the Hell you were thinking, but I swear, it better never happen again. And I really don't want to talk to you right now."_

"_Katara, wait, I don't know what you're talking about, really—."_

"_Screw you, Jet__--I'll call you when I've calmed down."_

"_Katara--!"_

She'd slammed her phone shut and been tempted to throw it at the wall, but had just clenched her fist around it instead. Her angry tears had left her eyes red and sore, and she'd felt like a fool. Everything he'd told her, all his promises, and she'd fallen for them hook, line, and sinker. The only reason she hadn't dumped the louse was because she'd believed in him when he'd said he was trying; and she couldn't turn her back on someone who was doing their best. Her heart hurt that night and she'd turned her phone off to head off his constant call-backs.

She'd been a mess the next morning. Her lab students had all behaved very well, though, in retrospect – they'd likely picked up on her downcast demeanour. Then again, she'd also threatened them with a pop-quiz if they didn't follow her directions to the letter… And asking for volunteers for the surgical-demo when they ran out of bottled frogs probably tipped the students off to her bad-mood, too…

Her students were a good group. There were the usual types: the 'smart' ones who understood everything straight away, the 'followers' who were intelligent, but happy to have someone take the lead as long as they could help, and the 'loners' who didn't want to have someone mooch off their work, so ignored their partners and eventually did everything on their own. They were good kids, and for undergrads they actually paid attention and asked a lot of good questions. She enjoyed being their lab TA; their humour and enthusiasm were wonderful for keeping her on her toes – and distracting her from the occasions when her own problems bothered her.

It was the same group who were with her now, and they were a bit chattier again this morning now that she must be returning to normal in their eyes. She heard one table laugh a bit louder than the others and investigated, glad to let go of her feelings of guilt for a bit.

_At least this class is a nice constant in my life right now_, she thought to herself as she sidled up to the students to ask them how they were doing.

* * *

_Thursday night, the week after the date with Jet._

Deserted. A condemned wreck, the factory had been abandoned until about three years prior; the brick exterior had crumbled away in parts, the windows had been boarded up, and the docking bays had been locked down for decades. It was surrounded by empty rail yards and lots, on the waterfront by the shipping port. It was rumoured to have been used by criminals as a hide-out, and the bullet holes in the wall leant plenty of support to the claim that there'd been at least one shoot-out within its dingy confines.

Tonight, it was the hottest club in the northern hemisphere, and even celebrities lined up to get in.

The city bylaw officers themselves ignored the violations the building presented, following a silent order from the city's council to 'overlook' the blights… The revenues the crowds brought it were greater than those of most of the biggest-name rock bands.

Lights whirled and glowsticks made neon streaks through the air as the city's best DJ mixed tracks and noise together expertly into a layered blend of music the biggest-label record companies would pay dearly to control. They had tried to pay her, of course – and she'd laughed in their faces. The Blind Bandit worked for herself, and herself only.

Hands outstretched over the multitude of dials and switches, her multiple laptops and other computer-related paraphernalia were arranged around her carelessly—or so it seemed. In reality, everything was arranged to her specifications, her wants, her needs, all at her fingertips. In order to better gauge the energy level and crowds' reactions, she went barefoot to feel the rhythms of their vibrations. When their cries rose to a fever pitch, she cranked the dials and drove them harder, before taking them back down again to a trance state to recharge or flow on autopilot.

It was here, in Toph's natural habitat of the darkened depths of the Bomb Shelter club, that Katara visited her friend and paid her a "Dear Abby" call... Just what Toph liked best; not the girltalk, but the opportunity to rip into Katara— responsible, mature Katara— for being a total ass.

"So have you forgiven him yet?" yelled the younger woman, preparing for the next set.

"No," Katara yelled back, frustrated.

"Did you talk to him?"

"No."

"Wow, Katara. You're really working hard on keeping this guy."

Katara's shoulders jerked and she jutted out her chin, her arms crossed in front of her. She hated it when Toph had a point, especially at her expense.

"You just don't understand…"

"What don't I understand? You think he did something bad to you, you have no proof, and you won't talk to him to find out what might have really happened anyway." Toph enumerated each point on a slender, skilled finger with one hand, and continued segueing the jungle-beat music with the other, instinctively. "I'm not saying you're wrong. I'm saying you're not giving him a chance to be right. Or even a chance to defend himself."

"So what, are you saying I should go over and apologise? He's a jerk – he could be dangerous!"

"Argh! Katara, look, it's up to you," conceded Toph, fed up with the circular argument. "You were happy with him; you think the world of this guy otherwise, and yet you're so stubborn and afraid to be wrong-- and hurt-- that you're stalling having any kind of discussion with him." The music rose to a crescendo, and Toph moved to the next computer, the one that controlled the room's effects. Bubbles and more mystic lights ambulated throughout the room, calming the crowds down again as the electronic wove into trance.

"Why don't you go talk to him? At least have the decency to end it cleanly. You're acting like a coward."

"I'm trying to be safe and protect myself. After what happened--."

Toph whirled on her, gesturing wildly and clearly exasperated. "That's just _it_, you don't know what happened! You're making assumptions," she threw her hands in the air for emphasis.

"No I'm not, I'm… I'm…"

Looking at her friend for a moment, Katara stopped speaking and took in what Toph had just said. Her eyes narrowed in speculation.

Damnit, she hated it when Toph was right.

Picking up her bag and putting her coat around her shoulders again, Katara rose to her feet and brushed herself off. She mentally braced herself as her list of chores, work, and school-related assignments loomed in front of her, and she realized she couldn't dawdle any further avoiding things. "I've got work to do," she said and shrugged her jacket on comfortably again.

"Yes, you do," assured her friend. Her voice was gruff, but confident and the vote of support made Katara smile.  
Doing up her zip, Katara leaned over and gave Toph a quick hug, in spite of the younger woman's protests. "Thanks, Toph." She planted a perfunctory kiss on her round cheek out of spite.  
"Yeah, whatever. I'll put it on your tab." Extricating herself from her friend's grasp, Toph shoved Katara lightly away. "Just don't forget your stuff. I have a business to run up here. If I trip and break something, you're paying for it."

"I'll see you later," called Katara, heading down the steps to make her way through the throngs of ravers to the door. Once past the security guards at the bottom of the flight of steps, she disappeared amidst the pulsing life of the mob. Toph felt the vibrations of her friend's feet fade into the pounding of the rest of the guests, like a raindrop falling into the ocean's currents.

"Later!" waved Toph – until her arm stiffened and stopped in mid-wave in the air. "Katara?" she called. "Katara!" Her voice was anxious – but the other woman had already moved out of hearing. She was soon through the door, completely out of 'sight'.

Toph swept her feet over the floor again to be sure, but the unusual vibration she'd felt was gone. It had been so strange, alien – but… it had almost felt like a ghost had tread on the concrete floor of the old factory for a moment, and followed Katara out the door.

Frowning and shaking her head slightly, Toph turned back to her stations and starting building the energy back up again. "Must've been something else…"

* * *

**************TBC.**

**************AN: Thanks for reading, I hope you enjoyed! I'll try and get Part 06 up this coming week, Tuesday or Wednesday.  
AN: Chapter originally posted 26 Jan 2008.**


	6. Chapter 6

**Author: moor on / ****beyondthemoor**** on LJ  
Title: Merits  
Part : Six  
Genre: Romance/humour/vamp/Modern AU  
Fandom: Avatar: TLA  
Pairing: Zutara, Jetara  
Length: 2000 words, approx.  
Rating: M  
Disclaimer : "Avatar: The Last Airbender" and all related rights belong to their original creators… I am not among their ranks.  
AN: In response to ****hyperroo****'s vampire/Zutara challenge, I present… the following. **

* * *

"**Merits" – Part Six**

_Later that night, after her talk with Toph at the Bomber…_

The last assignment was marked, the papers were written, and her readings were almost up to date. Her desk was tidied, her alarm was set for the morning, and for the first time in as long as she could remember, her Friday was looking like it might not leave her completely wiped out for the weekend.

She should have been thrilled.

Instead, Katara was sitting on her bed in her pyjamas, toweling off her wet hair and glaring at her cellphone as if it were about to eat her. It was her guilt and cowardice that threatened the latter, however. Her insecurity was infuriating her, too. She was being intimidated by a silver-and-chrome container of circuits with an antennae – adorned with a sparkly-blue dolphin charm on it to boot. Oh, the indignity…

Glancing at the clock, she knew it should have been too late to call Jet, since he had to work early the next morning; still, she wanted to get this over with, at least make a step in the 'right' direction. All this indecision, all this waffling, all this uncertainty was wearing her out and she wanted to just expel it and start over. She'd made a mountain out of a molehill, and possibly ruined a really great relationship in the making.

"You can do this, Katara," she mumbled to herself, holding the phone in front of her.

It would wake him up, he could get mad, and if he wasn't about to dump her already, he'd probably be ready to by the time she started talking to him and accusing him of drugging her.

"Yeah right," she ran her hand down her face. _Oh brother, this is already going well…_

She stared at the small screen, hard, as if to make the phone decide for her.

Call him. See how he's doing! (Too friendly.)

Don't call him. Shun the jerk. (Too aggressive.)

Call him. Talk about what happened! (Too straightforward.)

Don't call him. Make him suffer. (Too vindictive.)

Call him. (No.)

Don't call him. (No!)

Callhim. (NO.)

Don'tcallhim. (NO!)

Callhimordon'tcallhim, just get a grip, Katara! (Arrrrghhhhhh!!!!) She wanted to rip her dark locks out from their soggy roots. _Why was this so hard?_

A second later, the phone in question rang and the vibrations startled her so badly she dropped it with a muffled shriek.

"Hello?" trying to stabilize her voice, she grabbed at the phone and flipped it open before the caller-ID had even registered the sender.

"Katara, is that you? Are you ok?" Jet's desperate voice jumped at her through the line. "Oh thank god, I was so worried…"

The relief in his voice doubled her guilt… and relieved her at the same time. By the tone she could tell he was doubled-over. Then came the sound of a light thud. Was he leaning his head against a wall? Had she worried him that much? Had she even considered what he might have been thinking this past week?...

She pulled the damp towel from her shoulders and felt her fingers dig into the terrycloth. No, she hadn't thought about _him_ all week, just what she thought he'd done to her. She'd been so worried about herself, she hadn't given a second's thought to what he was going through, or even considered the option that he may not have had anything to do with her crazy 'dream'. From the receiver, on the other end of the line she heard Jet mumbling relieved sounds to himself, over and over. She'd been completely wrong… One hundred percent wrong. _Oh… shit._

She really hated it when Toph was right. There went her alcohol budget for the month.

"Jet?" she asked, interrupting his mumblings.

"Yeah? Is everything ok? When you got mad at me and wouldn't talk to me, I thought something had happened. I didn't want to bug you at work, and I know you've been really busy, but I just…" His voice trailed off. "I'm just… I'm really happy I got a hold of you," he finished, and Katara could hear the smile in his voice.

"I… I think I got mad at you for something… and… I didn't understand what was going on. I'm sorry," she said in a rush, eager to get the apology out of the way. Details would come later.

"Hey, that's no problem, stuff happens!" Katara almost laughed at his swing back to his usual easy, laid-back manner. She couldn't believe how worked up she'd been. Not that she was letting herself – or him – off the hook that easily, but at least she didn't feel as intimidated to do it. Feeling like an idiot, now that she'd have a hard time shaking.  
"So… just to clear things up, and see what happened… do you have some time this weekend?" She asked hesitantly. She didn't want to be the one to say, _"Let's have a talk."_ She knew guys got uncomfortable when girls suggested that. And it wasn't like they were a serious couple. They hadn't been dating very long, really. But hopefully Jet wouldn't run, wouldn't panic or avoid her, or would at least let her broach the topic, and--.

"Do you want to talk about things? Want me to come over?" he offered.

Wait,_what?_

For a second she was so surprised she pulled the phone from her ear and stared at it. Who was this man, and what had he done with her Jet? Broody, laidback, but never-this-sensitive Jet. He was as good as Toph with manipulation, if he was manipulating her. Damnit, was she the only one around here who sucked at this relationship thing? Katara felt her couple-confidence take a hit to the proverbial groin – yes, she realized, she was…

Jet was talking again, and she continued to stare at the phone anxiously.

No, no she wasn't ready to talk right now, she just meant to bridge the gap, make arrangements, set things up for the weekend! Her conflicting emotions warred again. She was beginning to hate both sides of the internal battle. Why was she being such a chicken? It was just a talk.

Katara scrambled to find her voice.

"Jet, you have to work tomorrow," she insisted, noticing the clock. 10:45pm. He could likely make it over by 11:00pm, but still…

"I took tomorrow off. I'll see you soon!"

"Jet!" She didn't want him to skip work because of her! Damn this impulsive man!

He'd already hung up.

Katara's pyjamas slid down her slumped shoulders as her hand fell to the top of the comforter on her bed.

"Crap!" jumping to her feet, she ran to the living to collect the stacks of laundry she'd been neglecting for the past two weeks.

In her haste, she stumbled over one of her piles of books. The top one fell open to a bookmarked section entitled _Porphyria_. She ignored it as she reached under her couch for a wayward pair of underroos. She figured she had about 20 minutes, max, before Jet buzzed her from the lobby...

* * *

The morning light streamed in from the blinds and Katara rubbed her eyes and pushed her hair out of her face to glance at the clock. She groaned; she was going to be late. Thank the gods she was giving the kids back a quiz today and had already planned another assignment they could start in-class after they finished reviewing the evaluation's answers…

A dark, work-roughened arm around her middle shifted and pulled her closer to his warmth under the blankets, and she tried not to give in and call in sick. Her students were depending on her. It was so comfy under the blankets, though…

_Scholarship…_Squeezing her eyes shut and cursing the weekday light, Katara grumbled out of bed.

"Work," she admonished, reaching up to pull the blankets away just enough to let her out and still maintain the warmth under the comforter for Jet.

"Mmmph…"

"Look, I'm leaving this spare key for you so you can sleep in a bit and then lock up after yourself, ok? I'll get it back from you later," she said. She washed up in the bathroom and left the key on the kitchen table, just beyond the entranceway to her apartment.

Not wanting to be left behind, Jet hurried around the corner, still buttoning up his jeans. "Hey, wait a second," he said, ducking into the bathroom, rinsing with mouthwash and coming to join her by the door. His jeans were slung low on his hips. Her attention was distracted when he reached into the pocket of his coat and handed her a tiny silver object.

"What's this… for?" she asked, and realized it was a key. She hadn't meant, when she lent him hers, oh no, she hadn't meant…

She looked up at him, trying to decide how to convey the misunderstanding with tact.

"No, it's ok, I know you just mean to give me yours for today." He smiled. "This is mine, though, for you."

"Jet, I can't."

"Yes, you can. I don't want you to think you can't trust me. And call me when your classes are done, I'll come get you."

Katara glanced at the clock and decided she'd be putting her old martial-arts conditioning to good use on her run to class that morning. "I need to go."

He slid a hand along her cheek, and hand-combed her hair behind her ear. "Call, ok? No more scary trips by campus for a while by yourself. Even if you are Super Woman!" He added when he saw her temper flare. His hand tightened in her hair and he pulled her close and kissed her soundly before she pulled the door open and dashed out. "Have a great class!"

Katara's cheeks burned as she flew past her neighbours who'd come to investigate the sounds of her louder-than-usual morning routine. She couldn't help but overhear their comments about her 'gentleman caller' who didn't look so bad without his shirt. She made a mental note to remind Jet to dress himself before she'd let him see her off again. She sped up as she exited the building and crossed the parking lot in leaps and bounds, the snow on her usual shortcut barely slowing her pace. She was very grateful she'd packed her bag the night before, but she wished she'd remembered to grab a hat & scarf.

* * *

From the driver's seat of his car, the vampire watched her hurtle over the chain link fence with ease before sliding to a stop on the snow and dashing off again. She hadn't even broken a sweat yet. Her dark hair flew behind her like a raven's wing in the wind.

She was strong, very strong. He already knew she was a fighter. Her opinionated attitude could stand some adjustment, but still…

She was definitely worth a look...

The Audi's engine purred to a start, and he pulled away to head towards the university. He was sure he'd find more out about her there, from the direction she was heading.

Zuko slid his sunglasses up the bridge of his nose as he smirked and wondered how she'd taste.

* * *

_In a faraway place..._

"You've known your legacy from a young age. You've trained, studied, and prepared for this role your whole life." The austere speaker looked at the young man kneeling before him in the circle.  
"Do you understand the career you are undertaking?"  
"Yes."  
"Do you understand the sacrifices and responsibilities?"  
"Yes."  
"Do you understand the cost, not only to yourself but to those around you?"  
"Yes I do. I accept them as they are a part of who I am."

"Then rise and join us, Aang," his voice rose to a crescendo to shout to the crowds surrounding them on the stone risers in the secluded amphitheatre. "Rise and join your fellow vampire hunters. Protect the human, defeat the darkness; through these you will preserve peace and light."

The young bald man accepted the accolades and bowed, covering one fist with the palm of the other. The blue trail of tattoos curled over lean muscles and sinew, from wrist to shoulder and down his back. The mark of the Guardian.

A pair of ocean-blue eyes materialized in his mind, and internally he smiled.

Triumph. Relief. Determination.

He felt a heavy breath flow through him and out, and his spirit lightened.

_I'm going home.  
_

* * *

**TBC**

**AN: Well, we finally see where Aang's been, and a bit more about Katara's situation (she's a grad student, medical field, and is dependant on her scholarship for funding). Also, we find out Toph's 'dayjob'. XD From the first moment I saw Toph bend, I've had the image in my head of her hands outstretched over a DJ rig.**

**AN: Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed!**

**AN: Originally posted 30 Jan 2008. (Just barely! Sorry, been working overtime and nearly forgot to update! Actually, on that note… When we hit RRSP season, I may not be able to update as often, but I'm going to try! Chapter 14 is currently with a beta already, believe it or not…)**


	7. Chapter 7

**Author: moor on / ****beyondthemoor ****on LJ  
Title: Merits  
Part : Seven  
Genre: Romance/humour/vamp/Modern AU**

**Fandom: Avatar: TLA  
Pairing: Zutara, Jetara  
Length: 1400 words, approx.  
Rating: M  
Disclaimer : "Avatar: The Last Airbender" and all related rights belong to their original creators… I am not among their ranks. **

**AN: In response to ****hyperroo****' s vampire/Zutara challenge, I present… the following.**

* * *

**  
"Merits" – ****Part Seven.****  
**

"What do you mean, 'evaluator'? I don't remember this being brought up at the last faculty meeting," argued Katara. Her dark hair was tied back in a messy knot as she leaned back in her chair to regard her supervisor and his unwelcome news.

Professor Bumi grinned down at her from the doorway of the double-office. Normally there were pairs of graduate students assigned to each office, however Katara had been lucky enough to get the office to herself following one of her colleague's early graduation, the term before. Katara herself was the grad student rep appointed to the faculty meetings, to report the major happenings to the rest of her fellow students. She knew she hadn't missed a meeting – so she was more than just a little offended the department had brought in an outside evaluator without notifying them through any sort of official memo or announcement. 'Dropping-in' on her on a Friday afternoon during her office hours did NOT count as official, in her book.

"Oh, it was decided before you arrived, my dear. Now, this is our 'little helper' as we're calling him, Mr. Zuko Sozin. He has traveled to many institutions, and has a great head on his shoulders. He's just here to observe the classes and the department runnings for a while, and offer a few suggestions if he sees anything he thinks needs improving."

Taking a calming breath, Katara tried to look on the bright side. It _would_ be good to have someone come in and straighten out some of the tenured profs who thought the grad students were slave-labour… And now they had an expert to do the reporting of this problem for them…

_Hmmm_. The young woman perked up considerably at the potential uses for the new member of the department. Not that she had any intention of exploiting him, but he'd definitely need a tour from the view point of the graduate students, and who better than she, the student representative, to show him the ropes? Definite possibilities. Putting on her brightest, most welcoming smile, Katara nodded, inviting them in.

"Ah, Zuko m'boy, this is your new office-mate, Katara Kuruk."

Katara's daydream shattered. _Wait, office-mate? As in, sharing her beloved personal space?_

Then her composure was stolen when she saw the handsome man… whose face was marred by a gash that crossed the side of it, from ear to chin. She was too stunned to react. _No, not a gash – a burn. Looks like a chemical spill or…_

"Hi, roomie," he said, extending his hand politely.

"I'll leave you two to get acquainted," said Bumi. The older gentleman skipped away back to his own office around the corner, leaving Zuko and Katara staring at each other. The room was quiet for a moment.

"Well, I'll just… put my stuff over on that desk…" pulling his un-accepted hand back and picking up his laptop bag, Zuko turned towards the second desk in the tiny office – to discover it was completely covered in Katara's work.

"Used to working alone, I see. Well, that'll be changing," said the intruder off-hand.  
Katara's eyes narrowed. _It wasn't what he said, it was the way he said it… _

Her lovely mouth tightened into a thin line as she stood to clear the desk for the new comer. There was something not right about this man… he'd been so polite a moment before. And useful.

_Ok, maybe this won't be as useful as I thought_, she reflected. _But it can still work._

"I'll be needing space on the shelves and in the filing cabinet by Monday."

Katara whirled around to say something back, but the bossy new 'roomie' had already left, leaving the door open behind him. Irked, but trying to stay focused, she cleared her own desk and packed her things to take home for the weekend.

"Just relax, go home, and read a trashy book in the bath," she mumbled to herself out loud, already mentally perusing her bookcase for a good one to choose to settle in with that night when she returned home. It had been a very long day already, and the thought of dealing with another problem made her decidedly anti-pragmatic for the time being. The new roomie issue could wait until after the weekend.

She spent the next half-hour clearing Zuko's desk off, and leaned down to grab the last few books from underneath her neighbour's desk. Crawling forward on her knees and still thinking about which trashy novel to pick up when she'd run her bath that night, she mumbled to herself, "Elizabeth Lowell, Nora Roberts maybe? Something really--."

"I can see we'll need to set some guidelines on professional conduct around here."

Katara startled so suddenly she whacked her head on the underside of the desk and swore audibly. (Her head was getting far too much abuse recently.)

The resounding _crack_ didn't seem to deter the intruder-again from his original intent.

"I'll be bringing in a few things this weekend. I'd appreciate it if you didn't touch them, if you come in to work before Monday," Zuko's voice addressed Katara's rear, the only part of her visible to him from her station under the desk. His polite façade had disappeared, and a rude, arrogant one had slipped into place. Unsure of whether it was her head-injury or his personality, Katara squeezed her eyes shut and prayed it was her head injury – she really didn't want to have to have to be partnered up with an asshole during her busiest term so far.

Thoroughly embarrassed at her position, and insulted he hadn't even asked if she was ok, Katara backed away from underneath the desk slowly. If the issue wasn't just in her head, truth be told she'd appreciate it if he didn't come in to work at all if he was going to keep being such a jerk.

"I was planning to work from home this weekend," _and possibly a whole lot more often from now on_, she replied. She rubbed the sorest part of her head and tried not to glare too hard at the newcomer. It was the same Zuko as before, just to be clear—and he was no longer polite now that Doc Bumi had left for the weekend. _Ok, maybe this guy's just socially awkward and not used to working with people. If he's so into 'improving' workplaces, he probably has to keep a professional distance and just doesn't know how to interact with other colleagues anymore_, she rationalized. Her Gran-gran had always taught her to look for the good in people, and that it sometimes lay below the surface. You couldn't always see the merits of an individual right away. Katara reminded herself of this several times while she applied pressure to the already-forming bump and glanced up at the 'socially underdeveloped' new 'friend'.

He continued before she could answer.

"You probably have a lot of catch-up to do, if you have so much work left out. I'm sure you'll have it all done by 8:00am, though. Good luck."

With that backhanded compliment, he left her wide-eyed and kneeling on the floor of 'their' office.

* * *

As Zuko closed the door and walked away, he distinctly heard a feminine voice utter,_sonofa__**b--**_ behind him. Slipping his sunglasses on again, he smirked and went for a tour of the campus' administrative records office.

* * *

**TBC **

**AN: Thank you for reading! **

**AN: Congratulations, Castle Anthrax – You're reviewer 25! Please PM or e-mail me with what you'd like your 'thank you' fic to be about. (characters/pairings involved, genre, rating, topic or theme or suggestion, etc.). I'll try and write that for you over February. (For those who don't know, I write a 'thank-you for commenting/reviewing' fic for those who leave a signed/logged-in comment if they are the 25, 50, 75, or 100****th**** reviewer on a fic of mine. I'll write them for un-signed reviews, too, of course, but I need you to leave me your e-mail so I can contact you to get the fic details from you!) More details in my profile.**

**AN: Originally posted February 3****rd****, 2008.**

**PS: Just a heads' up : I'm currently battling a partial hard drive failure. If you don't see an update mid-week, I'll do my best to do a double-update next weekend. (It's a war of attrition around here right now… ) **


	8. Chapter 8

**Author: moor on / ****beyondthemoor on LJ  
Title: Merits  
Part : Eight  
Genre: Romance/humour/vamp/Modern AU**

**Fandom: Avatar: TLA  
Pairing: Zutara, Jetara  
Length: 1400 words, approx.  
Rating: M  
Disclaimer : "Avatar: The Last Airbender" and all related rights belong to their original creators… I am not among their ranks.**

**AN: In response to ****hyperroo' s vampire/Zutara challenge, I present…  
**

* * *

******"Merits" -- Part Eight**

Amidst the wandering crowds, Toph and Sokka made their way to Gate 42. Their coats were open in the stifling heat of the building, and they bumped along trying not to trip over the luggage trailing after the departing and arriving passengers.  
"So he's coming in today? You're sure this time?"  
"Yes, I'm sure. He called when he was leaving the departure gates to wake me up," groused Sokka, blowing his long bangs out of his eyes. He hadn't been able to find an elastic before he left, and refused the barrette Toph had graciously offered him in the car.  
From beside him, the blind girl chuckled. "And you're sure it's 2:00 _pm_, not _am_, right?"  
"You're never going to let that go, are you? Look, I already apologized to you three times for that!"  
"I had to close my show early that night and everything!" she complained, poking him mercilessly. "And had you checked the schedule? Noooo…."  
Hmph-ing grumpily, Sokka looked up at the signs above the luggage carousels to see which one was to expect their friend.

"Come on, over here," he said, tugging on Toph's sleeve to keep her close. Had he looked back at his companion, he may have noticed the faint blush on her cheeks – however he was too stubborn and so continued unawares.

The pair spent a short time seated on some uncomfortable plastic chairs before Toph jumped to her feet, pointing directly to a handsome young man with a rucksack. "It's him! It's Aang! AANG! HEY AANG!" She waved wildly. "What took you so long, huh?"  
"Yeah, she's been driving me crazy!" Added Sokka, giving a playful jab at Toph. The young woman shoved him hard enough to send him flying backwards in retaliation. Several chairs fell over, clattering to the ground. Toph ignored them, and Sokka's surprised squawk of protest, and made her way to reunite with the clean-shaven, though obviously happy traveler. "Hurry up, we've got a welcome-home party ready and waiting for you!" yelled Toph with her hands to her mouth as a megaphone (not that everyone in the airport hadn't heard her already).

Collecting his things, he turned toward his two friends and smiled warmly. He'd been away far too long.

* * *

Spices, herbs, vegetable cuttings – the work of a master displayed on every surface; coupled with tempting cooking smells to waft through the apartment. 

Katara wiped the sweat off her brow with the back of her hand, and straightened up with her other hand against the small of her back. It had taken all morning, but the salads, hors d'oeuvres, and main dishes were ready. Toph had promised to collect some cakes from the bakery, so all that was left was setting the table – and a batch of snacks just finishing up in the oven. She'd even finished whipping the chip-dip.

_Martha Stewart, eat your heart out_, she thought to herself triumphantly.  
"Jet, could you bring out those plates now, please?" she called, and her boyfriend popped through a moment later with a stack of dishware from the cupboard.  
"This enough?"  
"I think so – Toph told me it was only for one more person. I wish she'd told me what kind of food to prepare, but she ran off with Sokka like it was some big 'secret' I wasn't supposed to know about. I swear, they better not be bringing home one of their latest 'friends' from the drunk-tank again… ugh…" Wrinkling her face in apprehension, Katara appraised the table one last time. Layout out the chopsticks and silverware, she started mimicking her friends' voices mockingly. "'Katara, we're having a party – make lots of food!' 'Katara, we'll be back around 3:00pm, make sure everything's ready!' 'Katara, we have a big surprise for you, but you can't peek!' Argh, and yet they leave me to do all the preparation for it! I feel like I'm throwing _myself_ this party!"

"It sounds like they depend on you a lot," remarked Jet, wandering over to her and placing his hands on her shoulders. "Just wait; they'll bring you something fantastic, and then you'll have the worst guilt-trip for doubting them. They're your friends, aren't they?" he asked, and massaged her knotted back. She sighed and knew she'd already forgiven them. She just didn't like feeling like she was being abused for her culinary skills.

"Yeah… and they wouldn't have asked without good reason, you're right. Thanks for coming over to help, by the way," she smiled and leaned into his warm hands. "I can't wait to introduce you to everyone."  
"My pleasure," he grinned. Just then, the oven timer went off, as sounds of approaching footsteps in the hallway trundled to her apartment door… accompanied by Toph's bellowing laughter. Jet arched an eyebrow and looked down at her.  
"You get the food, I'll get the door," she decided aloud. He nodded, kissed the top of her head, and returned to the kitchen.

"Coming!" called Katara, and she left the kitchen.

"—and this one time, when we were at the club and her students found her, she was--," Toph was talking loudly as she entered without knocking, followed by Sokka who was wisecracking as usual. Katara shook her head, amazed at how often loud noise always seemed to follow her brother and friend. It was like they came with their very own background settings…  
Determined not to let the pair off the hook for her entire morning spent shackled to her kitchen, Katara crossed her arms and waited for them to take their boots off. She schooled her face into a mock-scowl, though she couldn't help the corners of her mouth twisting up into a smile. It wasn't often enough, in her opinion, that they all got together like this anymore, and she was happy to see them. "Well, _finally!_ Welcome…," her voice caught in her throat at the last face through the door.  
"… home," said Aang softly, gazing back at her.

In the back of her mind, Katara reflected on how it was a good thing Toph had been carrying the cake at that moment, since she knew she would have dropped it had it been left in her care when she met Aang's eyes.

The entryway became very quiet as the two long-separated friends looked at each other. Even the raucous duo of Sokka-and-Toph calmed at the tension that had iced the air.

From behind the Water Tribe girl, a pair of masculine, confident footsteps calmly approached – and immediately drew everyone's attention, in part due to the apron he wore over his shirt and jeans.  
Sliding an arm around his girlfriend's shoulders, Jet gave Katara a quick squeeze and nodded to the newcomers. "Hey, welcome to the party. Is this the big surprise?" he asked, looking everyone over. His eyes rested suspiciously on Aang for a moment before moving on to Katara's brother and girl friend. He put out his hand to Sokka first.

"Yeah, you could say that," Aang replied a bit coolly. The young man hadn't missed Jet's appraisal, and he thrust his hand out to grasp Jet's before Sokka could. His tone changed and warmed however. "Hi, I'm Aang. I'm a friend of --," Toph cut him off.  
"_Every_body," her voice dripped with sarcasm and she waved her hand dismissively. Her boots landed with staccato slaps on the floor, and she tossed her jacket on the couch as she made her way through the apartment, leading the pack. The cake-bearer does tend to decide the course of action.

"That is true," added Sokka sagely, following her and leaving Aang, Katara, and Jet in the hallway. The tallest among them, the big brother's nose picked up the warm scent of the fresh goodies and his mood jumped ten points on the happy-scale. "Is that--."

"Yes, it's everything you guys asked for – who's hungry?" Katara forced herself to smile cheerily as she hustled everyone to the kitchen where her hostess talents were praised to the rafters. Most audibly by her brother; most loudly-chewed by her girl friend; most competitively by her boyfriend and her ex-fiancé.

* * *

_Late that night, after everyone had left_. 

In her bedroom, Katara sat curled up in her blanket, her phone to her ear as she spoke to Toph.

In the loft above Sokka's garage, Aang sat on a spare futon, staring at the floor while Sokka lay down nearby in his own bed.

No one slept.

The distance didn't matter anymore, though, as the lonely pair channeled the same thoughts, and spoke the same words:  
"You could have told me, you know…"

* * *

**********TBC**

**********AN: Thanks for reading! (Chapter posted Saturday February 9th, 2008).  
AN: Quick note: I'm sorry, I need to cut updates back to once a week, likely on weekends until RRSP season's up (March or possibly April). Sorry, overtime calls! (In good news, Chapters 9-15 are written and just need to be edited & posted.) **


	9. Chapter 9

**Author: moor on / beyondthemoor on LJ  
Title: Merits  
Part : Nine  
Genre: Romance/humour/vamp/Modern AU  
Fandom: Avatar: TLA  
Pairing: Zutara, Jetara  
Length: 2500 words, approx.  
Rating: T/M**

**Disclaimer : "Avatar: The Last Airbender" and all related rights belong to their original creators… I am not among their ranks.**

**AN: I do still refer to Katara as from the 'Water Tribe' (since, in this story, she is from North America). As an aside, she is from a First Nation band casually referred to as the 'Water Tribe' due to their reservation's close proximity to water in the Northern Territories in Canada. I think the Water Tribes in Avatar are based on the Inuit, a recognized group of First Nations people, so I wanted to try and keep some of that in the story. I hope this helps clear up a bit of confusion!**

**AN: In response to hyperroo' s vampire/Zutara challenge, I present…  
**

* * *

**"****Merits" – Part Nine**

The morning was… rough.

An unusual silence welcomed her to her office on Monday morning, when Katara returned from the lab she taught. It was quiet, but it was that kind of 'quiet where you knew someone's there'-quiet.

Her new 'roomie' sat at his desk, reading over documents and professor-evaluations from the past several years.

He didn't greet her when she entered.

"Morning," said Katara pleasantly as she put her things down on her own desk and started her computer. While she'd woken up depressed at the thought of facing a week (and longer) with Zuko as a working companion, she'd revised her initial opinion of him and decided to do her best to give him a chance to make a better impression. Her Gran-gran would be proud of her, she was sure.

At her expectant smile, Zuko barely glanced at her.

The corners of Katara's mouth dipped at his lack of interest, but she carried on.

_Maybe he's not a morning person, that's ok, I'm not either._

Trading her lab books for her notepad, a faintly insulted, but still optimistic, Katara left for her lecture.

"See ya later," she called.

He ignored her.

She closed the door after her, piqued. It didn't help that she'd noticed he'd cleared part of her bookshelves and left her pile of books and knick-knacks on the floor, to make room for his own things. Fortunately, she was looking forward to the day's lab with her usual group of students and tried not to dwell on the snub.

_And anyway, the afternoon still holds plenty of untapped potential, _she told herself and cheered at the notion.

For a few minutes, Katara deluded herself into thinking all would work out fine, and she arrived at her lab with her usual sunny disposition.

In reality, she knew she was starting to hate having a roommate.

* * *

The afternoon was… worse. 

"Have you met many people from the department yet?" Katara asked as she added dressing to her salad. She often ate at her desk in her office when she wanted to fit in a bit of extra reading over the noon hour. The cafeteria downstairs was too annoying to study in during the lunch hour, for obvious reasons – it was packed solid with hungry, rowdy students.

From his desk, Zuko looked up, surprised she'd addressed him again.

"No," he answered. "Are you… eating?" he asked awkwardly.

"Yes… it's lunchtime. Don't you eat lunch, too?" she teased, an eyebrow raised. He really was odd.

"No." The comment did seem to rouse him from his position behind his stacks of files, though. With that, he got up, walked to the window, and closed the blinds before returning to his seat to go over more documents. Putting another dossier on top of his pile, he worked away in silence.

"Was it too bright?" she asked curiously. She'd often sat at his desk while she worked and had enjoyed the way the sunlight poured in over her work, warming her. It was just the right angle to flow over the desk, yet avoid throwing glare in her eyes.

"No."

He ignored her for the rest of the lunch hour, including her offer to grab him a coffee later that afternoon when she took her break – which she took early, mostly to get away from him. Refusing to admit defeat, she decided it was simply time to regroup… elsewhere. To her added shame, she found she had to physically restrain herself from slamming the door shut behind her while she went 'regrouping'.

_It was one thing to have material to review and peace in which to work away at it, _she fumed to herself as she stalked across the campus to a further coffee shop than usual,_ but now he's just being outright rude. _His manner of avoiding even simple courtesies and interaction with her galled her tremendously.

Ironically, Zuko's antisocialism had the opposite effect on Katara than he'd probably intended, as instead it served to strengthen Katara's resolve to get through to him, or be damned trying.

The Water Tribe woman dawdled in the library coffee shop twice as long as usual during her coffee break that afternoon, stewing and trying to figure a way to get her new office-mate to act human.

Little did she realise, she'd set herself unrealistic standards...

* * *

The evening was… unbearable. 

Her night-class let out early, so Katara decided to return to her office to work on her research paper on the 'vampires' of her childhood legends. She was just about done with the last section, and wanted to finish it up before heading home to relax and get to bed.

It was another bitter night, and she was thankful of her warm office waiting for her. Possible causes of porphyria in the native tribes of Northern Territories, was the title of the section she mulled over in her head as she crossed campus back to the Medical Arts building. Porphyria was the name of the (now debunked) disease that many authors and scientists had once thought contributed to vampirism. Pale skin, recessed gums, and the need to acquire outside sources of heme (blood) due to the incomplete synthesis within the patient's own body were all connected to the disease. The heme-related problem also occasionally left the victim very photosensitive – prone to extreme skin sensitivity under bright light. She had explored causes of genetic mutation, family-hereditary transmission, and was looking now at outside influences, like environment and diet.

A list of possibilities ran through her head and she plotted out in her mind the avenues to explore in the dissertation. As she opened the door to her workspace, she was unsurprised and doubly disappointed to see Zuko at his usual spot. Unknown to her, her forehead had puckered with mild irritation at his presence.

While irrational, Katara was beginning to think the man was stalking her in her office.

Shaking her hair out of her jacket, the determined-to-be-professional young woman settled in behind her desk with a polite, "Hey," to her co-worker, and got to work.

_Environment_, she wrote down on a piece of paper. On another area of her desk, she retrieved her photocopied map of the Northern Territories, and on the areas where there'd been considerable outbreaks of the disease she'd marked a red 'X,' along with the dates of the outbreaks. Another piece of paper stapled to the map held a legend of the statistics related to the outbreaks, including roughly how many people had been involved, the specific legend-myth she thought related to it, and how long the legend had been around and the outbreak had lasted.

In a way, she was beginning to feel like Dana Scully from The X-Files; searching for the medical and scientific rationalization to these stories. It was kind of fun when she thought of it from that perspective. This cheered her. So she was Dana Scully; yay!

She glanced over at Zuko a moment, when she realized this, and her face darkened. If she was Scully, then Zuko was…

"Ugh," she muttered aloud, and went back to her plethora of theme-organised cue cards.

_Jerk probably has sister-issues, too, _she mused.

A large medical tome balanced upright beside Katara's keyboard, and she read softly out loud to herself the list of environmental factors that had affected the European outbreaks of the 'vampire disease.' She stopped as she came across one in particular, as it seemed eerily familiar: mercury.

"Mercury," she repeated, louder this time.

She glanced at her map, an idea forming in the back of her mind, and she recognized the name of a town that had had a large mining facility at one point, about a hundred and fifty years ago. It had closed down due to mercury poisoning; and she remembered there being a native reservation nearby which had nearly died out from anemia around the same time, due to so many of the local animals falling ill from the mercury that had leaked into the water source…

Excitement enveloped her and she hastily reached for her keyboard, noisily knocking her medical text down with a bang in the process.

Zuko glared at her from across the room, but she didn't notice.

"'Mining town,' 'mercury,' 'Northern Canada or United States'…" she mumbled to herself, typing furiously in her web browser's search engine. After clicking a few links, she found exactly what she was looking for: the image of a scanned map, including dart-points to illustrate a number of mining towns that had been affected by mercury poisoning between 1850 and 1925. _Bingo!_

It was not a complete list, but it was definitely a strong start – she could already see half a dozen points of correlation between her map of vampire legends and porphyria outbreaks, and the scanned map on her screen of mercury-poisoned mining towns. Eureka!

"Ha! Hahahahah, I've got it!" Katara exclaimed, laughing out loud. "Now, do we have a copy of this book in our library?" she said aloud to herself and examined the web page for any reference to an author, publisher, or ISBN; her reputation was fried if she tried to list 'Google' as a reference on her annotated bibliography.

The first leg of the treasure hunt ended when she found the ISBN at the bottom of the web page, and copy-pasted it into a new web browser window with the library's search engine already up. She was soon rewarded: two copies, both on the stacks.

"All right, now to go get that…" she glanced harder at the screen, and lost some of her earlier exuberance.

"Rats," she muttered. They were in the Rare Book Collection room. She'd have to go in during the RBC's restricted hours tomorrow to go through one of the copies. Luckily, Tuesday wasn't too busy a day for her, and she'd be able to head in first thing.

It was a great deal of encouraging news in a relatively short period of time; and after her day of interpersonal stress dealing with Zuko Sozin, she felt she'd earned it. She smiled and made a few more notes on her papers before starting to clear her things up.

_Not a bad way to end the night_, Katara decided, practically humming with accomplishment: She was going to ace this paper, the presentation, and hopefully even be able to get a publishable paper out of it! Triple-score!

Zuko glanced up at her triumphant sigh.

"No wonder your last roommate left," he commented, head already back down on his papers.

And immediately ice water washed over Katara, stealing her happiness.

She'd completely forgotten about the man opposite her actually still being in the office, she'd been so wrapped up in fantasizing about her success.

"What do you mean?" she asked, more sharply than she intended. Why had he said that? How was it this man managed to goad her so easily?

"Too noisy," he said simply.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to disrupt your 'quiet' time here in the crypt!" even her eyes snapped and narrowed at his comment.

Zuko ignored her, infuriating Katara further. She felt her nose wrinkle as she clenched her teeth and hands angrily.

_You are such a jerk, Zuko Sozin! Being nice to you is going to give me ulcers!_

Forcing herself to calm down and regain her composure, Katara watched him and slowly unclenched her jaw and hands. _You can do this – just like Gran-gran said, we don't always see what's really there. In a moment he could realize just how miserable an s.o.b. he really is, and apologise. _Katara was ready to accept even false hope if it meant there was an ounce of courtesy in her roommate – that would mean there was a chance that their co-habitation would not be an insufferable term-long sentence. In her desperation, and out of respect for her mental health, she refused to consider the possibility the confinement may last longer than the current school term.

Putting a dossier back onto the 'completed' pile (Katara had figured out that much of his system, from how the stacks on his desk had shifted through the day), Zuko shut down his computer and started putting it into his laptop bag.

She waited for him to elaborate, to look at her, to acknowledge her in any way, but as usual, he ignored her.

Without another word, he turned off his lamp and left, leaving the door open behind him.

Katara scrunched her eyes shut and refused to scream.

**Day One:**  
_Zuko: One.  
Katara: Zero._

* * *

For his part, Zuko almost chuckled as he walked to his car, the auto-lock chirping as he clicked a button on the remote. 

"'Crypt,' hmph," he said to himself. He hadn't enjoyed a good crypt since the Victorian era in jolly old England…

Satisfied his cover was securely established, Zuko went over what he'd learned that day: He was already well versed in the department's members and focus through the evaluations he'd reviewed, he'd memorized Katara's schedule, and was quite familiar with many of the particulars of her employment and studies. He'd also managed to get under her skin, from the moment she walked in the door that morning, likely until she'd go to sleep that night. All she'd think about was him.

_Quite a productive day indeed_, he thought smugly to himself. He could see Katara was intelligent, but she wore her heart on her sleeve. Obviously, she held her beliefs close to her heart and had no hesitation in sharing her opinions.

He wondered for a moment if she'd be too easy, what with her transparency…

The moment was short-lived when he remembered her determination and obstinacy during her encounter with the thugs.

_No, definitely not an easy one_, he realized with mild amusement, and was surprised at his own eagerness to engage her; _she will still fight. She will always fight._

Blue eyes full of conviction framed by a forehead with ribbons of dark hair sprang to mind, and suddenly she became a warrior: brave, confident, and unyielding.

The lovely woman would be a challenge. A prize.

Casting aside his reverie, the vampire put his car in gear and drove out of the lot. He'd be able to complete the full department evaluation within a few weeks, at most.

Toying with his new office-mate, however… The corner of his lips tugged temptingly, and he felt his canines lengthen slightly in anticipation. _Katara…_

Growling throatily, the engine sprang to life as Zuko pulled smoothly onto the highway. She was annoying at times, but definitely lively. She'd be divine.

He could hardly wait for the day she'd really lose her temper.

He'd take her then, and devour her.

* * *

******TBC**

******AN: Please give a huge round of applause to renagrrl for all her fantastic help as beta on this chapter! (Rena, I'm sorry I'm such a dash-and-hyphen ho!)**

******AN: Please don't take any medical / scientific remarks in this story as serious scientific fact. I'm googling and abusing coincidence. ;)**

******AN: Chapter 09 first posted February 15 2008. Thank you for reading!**


	10. Chapter 10

**Author: moor on / beyondthemoor on LJ  
Title: Merits  
Part : Ten  
Genre: Romance/humour/vamp/Modern AU  
Fandom: Avatar: TLA  
Pairing: Zutara, Jetara  
Length: 1000 words, approx.  
Rating: M  
Disclaimer : "Avatar: The Last Airbender" and all related rights belong to their original creators… I am not among their ranks.  
AN: In response to hyperroo' s vampire/Zutara challenge, I present…  
**

* * *

**"****Merits" – Part Ten**

"—complete jerk! Anytime I said 'hi' to him, he ignored me; anytime I offered to get him coffee, he pretended I wasn't there; anytime I--…"

Toph nodded at the indignant voice that spewed from the speakerphone, and continued clipping her toenails peacefully.

Katara had been ranting for almost a quarter of an hour about her first week with her new roommate, and didn't seem to be losing steam. From the moment she walked into her office in the morning to the time she left it at night, Zuko Sozin was there. What had once been a comfortable, even cushy arrangement for her to complete her readings, papers, and labwork had become a kind of mental gauntlet she had to endure. Her office was being 'infected' with 'asshole', as Katara put it colourfully, and her personal space had become a personal Hell.

In short, Katara hated having a roomie.

Furthermore, Katara was making sure everyone knew she hated having a roomie.

"—I mean, would it kill him to be polite? Does he think I'm being intrusive or nosy, or-or--."

Unable to take her friend's– well, there was no other word for it –_bitching_any more, Toph cut her off.

"Yes. He probably does."

The line went silent a moment apart from Katara's worked-up pants of anger. A train picking up steam as it chugged uphill sounded less arduous.

When the older of the two girls regained some of her composure and next spoke, icicles could have formed from the coldness of her tone.

"_Excuse_me?"

"He probably does think you're being too friendly & outgoing. Maybe he's a loner and just prefers doing his own thing. He doesn't have to interact with you, Katara," counseled Toph reasonably. "If he's just there to evaluate your department, maybe it is best he doesn't get to know you – it could sway his professional opinion." Wisely, Toph held her tongue and didn't precise whether she thought the affect would be a positive or negative one.

"Are you saying he thinks I'm trying to bribe him to get better results on our review?"

Sighing, Toph's shoulders slumped slightly; it was probably best not to answer that one directly. Katara was getting defensive.

"I'm saying, let the man do his work. Does he interrupt you while you work?"

"No."

"Does he say things that make you uncomfortable? Harass you?"

Katara thought a moment: apart from the first day when he'd called her noisy, he hadn't really said much of anything to her.

"...No," she replied, more slowly.

"Does he leave flaming bags of dog poop on your desk to rile you?"

"Of course not!" The mental image of the ever-professional, serious, cold loner pulling such a juvenile prank made Katara almost smile. Before she could continue, Toph did.

"Did it ever occur to you that perhaps he feels just a little bit crowded with you constantly trying to talk to him, distract him, and otherwise not let him do his job?"

"… but I'm just trying to be welcoming–," Dear Abby cut off her meager excuses again.

"No 'buts', Katara," the younger woman's commanding tone left no room for disagreement. "You may feel like he's invaded your personal work space, but it sounds to me like this guy feels like you're invading his personal space, too." Straightening up, she wiggled her toes and stretched out her leg; yes, she had some fine feet. _Time to move on to the next one. _Leaning down again, she started on her other foot, hearing and choosing to ignore Katara's angry breathing on the other end of the phone. "You've had almost a week with this guy, right?"

"Yes," bit off Katara through clenched teeth.

"So how about tomorrow, you ignore him?"

"But that's so rude" was about to roll off her lips, until Katara pulled up short and considered her friend's advice more carefully. Ignore him? The idea held some pleasant potential…

A feeling of warmth and opportunity filled her as she contemplated whether she'd be able to get under Zuko's skin by ignoring him. Or, at the very least, feel more peaceful herself. _Ignore him, huh?_

"Katara?" inquired Toph, a bit uneasy at the silence.

"I'll do it," decided Katara.

"Good for you," agreed Toph carelessly. She finished her second set of toes and sprang to her feet. "Anything else, or can I get my butt to my podium where I belong?"

The not-very-subtle reminder that it was a Thursday, and ergo a work night for Toph, chastened Katara for her earlier tirade. In a few short hours, Toph would be settled into her raised stage, behind her tables of computer gear.

"Mind if I stop by later?" asked Katara a bit self-consciously. "Just to talk about other stuff? I haven't caught up with what you've been doing recently," she realized aloud.

"Same old, same old; you know me. I just control the minions and make them dance," Toph tossed out, already choosing her clothing for the evening from her closet.

"God is a DJ," Katara's musical laughter rang out from the telephone speakers.

"I don't disagree," grinned Toph. "Well, my fans are waiting. I'll see you tonight. Are you bringing your new man?"

"Zuko? Of course not!" cried Katara, taken aback.

Toph stilled, speechless for a moment.

"Haha, gotcha! Just kidding," the blind girl said jokingly after a surprised pause. "Ok, I'll see you later, K."

"Dress warm, it's supposed to get cold tonight," warned Katara. "Don't forget a hat – I know you hate wearing them over your hair, but you'll catch a cold if you don't, and then you'll get sick, and then–."

"Yeah, yeah. Bye!" The line disconnected, and Toph cut off her friend's fretting.

She still stood in the middle of her room, face turned unseeing toward the floor, and couldn't help the last bit of their conversation repeating in her mind.

'_Are you bringing your new man?'_

'_Zuko? Of course not!'_

_Jet,_thought Toph to herself as she shook her head sympathetically,_ you have some competition._**_  
_**

* * *

******TBC.**

******AN: Thank you for reading! (Sorry, a short chapter, I know... hence why you get the first of the 'thank you' fics right after!)  
AN: Part 10 originally posted Feb 22 2008.  
**


	11. Chapter 11

**Title: In your own company  
Author: Moor (beyondthemoor on LJ)  
Genre: Modern AU, high school  
Length: Approx. 4400 words  
Pairing: Zutara  
Rating: T**

**Disclaimer: "Avatar: TLA" belongs to its copyrights holders.**

**AN: This is the 'thank-you' 'fic I wrote for AvatarAiris after she left me the 50****th**** review on "Merits"! I hope you enjoy this break from the 'fic. (It will be returning at its regularly scheduled update next week; same bat-time, same bat-channel.) Just to be clear, this 'fic is separate from "Merits". I hope you like it, AvatarAiris! **

**This fic is based on how the group would interact in high school... but if events similar in nature had happened to them up to the season three episode, 'The Firebending Masters'. **

**AN: Thank you all for reading so far!  
**

* * *

**(Late afternoon.)  
**

"Uh... hi..." Zuko's voice was a bit hesitant as he opened the door and spied not one, but four individuals waiting on his doorstep that Tuesday afternoon.

"Hey Zuko! I hope I'm on time!"

"Yeah, come on in, Aang... everyone..." He took a staggered step back as the unexpected guests trouped into his spacious main hallway.

"Thanks, I'll just make myself at home," Toph made her way straight to the sound of a large-screen TV blaring at a worn leather couch.

"Mind if I take a peek in your kitchen?" asked Sokka, already following his nose Toucan Sam-style in a separate direction.

"Uh, that is, actually, I can–," it was a futile attempt, but the young tutor-turned-host held an arm up as if to call Sokka back. The dark-skinned younger man had already found the fridge, however, and was making giddy noises of contentment. "Ooh! You have my favourite pie in here..."

Zuko's attention was brought back to the entranceway at the next individual's deliberate words. They were sharp enough to nearly make him wince.

"Come on, Aang. Let's get this over with."

Last through the door came the one person in school who had yet to welcome him back after the accident and his stay in a private school. Everyone else had forgiven him for being a trouble-maker, especially after Aang had welcomed him into his group of personal friends (and really, no one went against Aang) – but Katara Kuruk.

The tutoree in question gave his senior an apologetic look as he passed by, leaving Zuko fumbling with the large door and watching everyone scatter like grains of rice on the floor.

"Should I just set up at the library desk, as usual?" asked Aang, putting his coat away neatly in the closet, and helping Katara next with hers.

"Yeah, that's great. I'll be right there."

"Ok!" Aang smiled and hopped off towards the rear room, leaving Katara to remove her shoes with Zuko in the entryway.

"Right, sure..."

Even though she was on his partially-blind side, he knew the fiercely protective young woman was at the same time keeping her back to him and still managing to keep an eye on him. While it stung, he couldn't blame her for it, either. They didn't speak to each other. Ever.

He left her and made a small wish that the afternoon not end in awkward hostility. Head high and refusing to let his spirits swing low, he followed Aang to the den where his laptop and school books were currently settled, ready and waiting to teach Aang the intricacies of higher-level calculus.

...with Katara chaperoning for the duration...

* * *

Sokka and Toph decided to veg on the couch instead of hawk-eyeing the study-buddies.

"So, nice place? What's his dad do?" asked Sokka from beside Toph on the clean leather. Instinctively, she smacked his hand away from the bowl of chips she held in her lap; her feet were propped up lazily on a stack of magazines on the coffee table.

"This isn't his family home," she replied, and munched noisily on the snacks. "Ooh, you added Crackerjacks, my fav. Thanks, Snoozles."

Sokka shrugged and leaned back, resting his head on his arms folded behind him on the plushy furniture.

"How do you know this isn't his family home? Is he renting a room here or something?" Inquisitive blue eyes glanced at the opulent surroundings. "Nice digs...seems like Zuko."

"The vibe. He's acting like a guest in this place, not like he's welcome friends to his home. Granted, we aren't his 'best buds' or anything, but it feels like he's on his best behaviour, and not just for us."

"Maybe he has some of his old buddies out in the garage, just waiting for us to get a false sense of security before they jump us," muttered Sokka, and couldn't help alluding to Zuko's dangerous past. The gang he had run with had been a terror on the city for months, until some big underground gangwar had broken out and Zuko had disappeared to a 'private school' for over a year. He'd returned just a few weeks ago, and already was gaining popularity for having turned his life around and trying to fit in. That didn't mean he was accepted – but it did mean he was being recognized for making the effort. Acceptance would take time, but being friends with Aang and his gang had improved his reputation by leaps and bounds already. He hadn't gone out of his way to curry favour with the intimate group, either – it had just sort of happened. Due to Katara's coldness, however, Zuko mainly stuck to the other members of the group in the hallways, and never joined them at their lunchtable in the cafeteria where she was usually present.

"No, this place is empty except for us. I think this house belongs to someone he respects, and he doesn't want to mess things up for that person."

"And you're helping him achieve this goal by muddying his great patron's collection of _Time_and_People_."

"Precisely."

Curiosity got the better of him, and Sokka glanced around more seriously than before.

"...So who's house are we in?"

"How should I know? I'm just here for the eats."

* * *

Meanwhile, things weren't going as smoothly in the den.

"Yeah, you've got it!" coached Zuko, praising Aang's quick retention of the material again. "I can't believe you asked me to be your tutor – you seem to catch most of this stuff within a few examples."

The young student beamed up at him with thanks. "It really helps when you have someone to go over it with one on one. They don't teach this at school since there isn't enough interest, so when I found out you'd taken it at your private school, I couldn't let the chance go by. You're a good teacher, too, 'Sifu'-Zuko."

For the first time in a long time, Zuko felt himself relax slightly._ I'm good at something. I'm good at something that helps someone else_. "Just doing what I can," he answered.

"Well," broke in a cold, sarcastic voice, "why don't you two keep doing what you can and finish this up. This is a week night and the rest of us have a curfew."

Any warmth he'd felt was doused. _I'm never allowed to be right for long._

"Sure, thanks for ... I'll just go to the next example, which is right... uh..." stumbling over his notes, Zuko accidentally knocked his laptop off the desk. It was only his lightning-quick reflexes that kept it from smashing on the hardwood floor. He was breathing quickly, nervously, as he picked the expensive computer up and tried to settle it safely on the table edge again. "For the next example, just give me a minute here, I'll just put this back and pull out the next chapter, which is... uh... it's... I have it written down, it's about derivatives... uh..." Sweat broke out across his brow as his confidence shook and he lost his place entirely in the lesson. Having her glaring at him always did that to him.

"_Oh for the love of..." _Katara rolled her eyes and hmphed in derision.

"Katara."

Aang was looking at her in surprise... and disappointment.

"What?" she snapped.

"It'll just be a second, I've got everything right here." Finally getting his things in order, Zuko seized his lesson outline and notes from his old 'school' and tried to regain control of the situation. Aang and Katara's stare-down was not making him feel very comfortable; the hostility in the room was rising.

"That was rude."

Katara pretended to ignore her friend's chastising, and went back to her own homework.

"Katara. I mean it; apologise to Zuko. He's our host and he's my tutor. You're being impolite."

Zuko had rarely seen any discord within the group at all (other than Sokka and Toph ribbing each other good-naturedly, of course – and sometimes ruthlessly, but that seemed to be their relationship), and the firmness in Aang's voice as he addressed his long-time girl friend had taken him aback.

Going by Katara's dark eyes, it seemed to be taking her some getting used to, too. She still hadn't replied or given any indication she'd heard him, other than her shoulders tensing slightly and her brow drawing together.

"Katara," ordered Aang. She clenched her jaw.

"Look, it's ok, really – I'm ready to get back to work if you are, Aang." _I don't want to see any more fighting. I don't care. Let's just get back to work..._

"No, it's not ok," Aang's patient, reasonable face was marred slightly by the darkness in his own gray eyes as he looked at Zuko. "She doesn't act like this, and she should be nice to you. Katara, stop acting like a kid. You're insulting Zuko's hard work and help, and you're embarrassing me," he stood up, then, and faced her.

The room was quiet for a time, as Zuko watched the pair and their body language, and he couldn't help but feel guilty. _Why do I always screw things up? Why can't I just do something right? I don't care if she apologises or not, it doesn't matter to me, she hates me! If I were her, I'd hate me, too!_

The self-loathing internal monologue assaulted his confidence for a few more minutes, as Aang and Katara shifted and eventually faced each other.

Katara's eyes were hard. And red. She wasn't crying, she was angry.

"I hate you," she muttered viciously under her breath, and stuffed her things into her bag before stalking out of the otherwise orderly room and slamming the door behind her.

Curios and knick-knacks on the bookshelves tinkled and clinked together at the force of the shock. Aang's shoulders slumped and he sat down dejectedly with a sigh.

"Sorry..." he mumbled, and stared sightlessly at his notes. "She's normally not so..." Even he couldn't come up with a nice way to describe Katara's behaviour since Zuko had come back.

"S'ok," Zuko's forced his fingers to unclench from the notes he'd been holding.

Aang sighed again and considered his words carefully. After a moment or so, he continued.

"Her father's, well, her and Sokka's dad, since they're siblings... he's a cop."

_Oh._Zuko felt a headache start at his temples, and sickness roil in his gut.

"So, when all that stuff went down before, with your gang, and you..."

"Yeah, I get it. I'm bad news."_ No wonder she hates me. I could have been one of the ones taking aim at her family. _Shame, hot and filthy, burned his stomach and up to his throat. His past was never going away. No one was ever going to let him let it go...

"No! Her dad is a cop – but he's one of the ones in the Organized Crime Unit assigned to keeping the peace between the gangs... So he's the one the gangs call when they need help and don't want to involve innocent bystanders... They get a lot of late-night calls... Katara and Sokka don't see their dad much."

Aang continued in a rush. "Katara doesn't hate you, Zuko, she just doesn't trust you; she thinks... geez, right now, actually, even _I_don't know what she's thinking. But she doesn't know if she can let you in past her own walls. She's normally really nice. I'm sorry, Zuko, I don't know what her problem is right now. But I don't think it is you, exactly. I think it is more what you used to represent."

He felt himself nod distantly, and sighed knowing it was going to be a long, long time before he got to make a true 'fresh' start somewhere.

"It's ok, Aang. I think I get it, now. But thanks," it had been so long since he'd used it, he felt like he'd forgotten how it worked; but the smile pulled just enough at the edges of his mouth to turn the corners up and make a clear distinction that it was indeed a smile and not a grimace. "Now, let's get back to work – we've got a lot to cover before you take off with your, uh, friends."

The skinny younger man grinned cheesily back at his tutor and slapped him on the back. "Hey, you're our friend, too! And you're right, let's hit these books..." He made a mock-punch at the text book -- and then winced when his hand hit it a bit harder than he meant to. "Ow..."

Zuko couldn't help but smirk in amusement at Aang's antics.

* * *

It was noonhour at school, and Aang and Katara had taken a walk away from their usual group of friends at their lunchtable to go for a walk. Bright sunshine, warm winds, and the occasional waft from the shore breeze had turned the day into a picturesque setting for an afternoon stroll.

"I just feel like getting outside for a bit, it's beautiful outside!" had been his invitation, and Katara had accepted hoping that they would tactfully ignore her poor behaviour from two days' prior. She was wrong.

"I know something's up, Katara. Why won't you talk to me?"

His sensitive voice made raised her hackles immediately and his warm gray eyes probed her blue ones with concern. The day that had seemed too beautiful for words a moment before chilled several degrees and she couldn't help but pull her blazer closer to her to fend off the tendrils of cool air that cloyed at her, searching for chinks in her armour.

"I'm fine, Aang. Really," she insisted.

He stopped and grasped her sleeve, gazing at her face thoughtfully.

"You're not 'fine'. I know you when you're fine. Your eyes laugh and you smile. You make jokes, and they're terrible, but you make smart-ass remarks about Sokka and Toph. Lately, since I started hanging out with Zuko and tutoring, you're... something's changed. What's wrong?"

His deep, storm-gray eyes held her sky-blue ones intently.

"I don't like Zuko Sozin," she said bluntly, not bothering to lie to him.

"Why?"

"Because he's a thug! A criminal!"

"No, he's not!"

"Aang, I know you like to give people second chances," she started, but he interrupted.

"And so do you, Katara. We all make mistakes. Zuko's doing his best to overcome his – and he's even helping me when he doesn't have to. I'm not paying him; I'm not even asking him, because I know he'd never accept it. He's trying really hard. And you're not letting him move on. You're judging him for what he did, not what he can do. It isn't just affecting you, either – it is making everyone around us awkward and uncomfortable."

"No it isn't," she protested; she hadn't noticed any change at all.

"Yes, it is!" his voice rose a bit with the insistence. "You need to grow up, Katara."

The blades of grass in the school soccer field where they had stopped rippled as the wind blew, and Katara stared at the patterns a moment before she replied.

"Fine. So what do you want me to do? Throw him a surprise party welcoming him to the 'good' life? Not happening, Aang. Ever."

"NO!" His frustration was so obvious it came out in his yell and drew the stares of a few students off in the nearby parking lot.

To her credit, Katara felt herself blush crimson when she realised how obtuse and stubborn... and admittedly immature she was being. She bit her lower lip but refused to back down. Her arms were crossed in front of her, and she looked once more at the green carpet below her before facing Aang again.

"No," the young man repeated more calmly. "What I want is for you to give him a chance. Talk to him. Be nice to him. You're my friend, Katara. _My best friend_. I want, no I need you to be a friend to Zuko, too. Not because of me; because you want to."

The young woman flipped her hair and looked away. "Yeah, I'll get right on that."

Her voice dripped with sarcasm. For a moment, a brief, almost non-existent split-second of time, Aang's face darkened and he seemed to grow older... Katara's eyes were riveted to his and the change in his features, fascinated, and also a bit afraid at what she'd inadvertently caused.

"Katara," he said slowly, "you really aren't who I thought you were."

With that, his grip on her sleeve loosened and he let it slide through his fingertips until he brushed her hand with his.

Then he let her go and walked away.

* * *

She rejoined the other members of their group for the rest of the lunchhour. Aang was nowhere to be seen. 

"Yeah, so he did leave the gang. His uncle helped him out. He stays with him, it's his house," explained Toph to their friend Teo at the table.

"Aah, that explains why Zuko felt like a guest. He doesn't want to lose his posh crib," the unnecessary and exaggerated hand gestures Sokka made caused everyone to groan.

"No," corrected Toph again and elbowing Katara's brother in the gut. "They're close. You could tell the way they teased each other over dinner last night. Speaking of, his uncle's a great cook – Zuko's not bad, either! The apron was a nice touch."

"He was a good cook, wasn't he?" agreed Sokka, rubbing his tender belly.

"You guys stayed for supper?" asked Katara. The group fell artificially silent.

_I really do make everyone uncomfortable now, _she realised with astonishment. _How long have I been doing this?_

"Yeah. You left early, but we stayed. It was a lot of fun, actually. I think Iroh liked having us over."

Katara stared at her brother in confusion. "Iroh?"

"Zuko's uncle," explained Haru, who'd also been at the lunch table. "You know, Mr. Sozin. The VP?"

"He's a fun old guy; knows his kitchen," added Sokka with a respectful tone.

"Oh,..." Katara went back to listening to everyone else discuss the rowdy dinner and evening at their vice principal's house. She'd never known he and Zuko were related. She wondered why he didn't stay with his own family. Now that she thought about it, she realised he'd never actually mentioned his family, not that she'd paid all that much attention to what he was saying, but that was a bit odd.

"... shame about his family, though."

"Yeah, completely disowned him. His uncle was the only one who'd give him a chance."

The words and thoughts broke through her reverie and she glanced up at her friends again in surprise. After he got into trouble, they just abandoned him?

"Even his mother?" she asked aloud, jumping back into the conversation.

The group stared at her uncomfortably.

"Katara..." Haru looked at her meaningfully. He was trying to tell her something important with his green, sympathetic eyes... She stared hard at him, trying to decipher it. No luck. She didn't get it.

She looked next to her brother, Sokka; he was looking away, too. His face looked thoughtful, reflective. It was so foreign on him that she wondered if they were playing a joke on her.

She nearly laughed and called them on it – but something held her back.

_Ok, there's gotta be someone here who knows what's going on..._

Curiosity got the better of her. "Toph?"she asked, exasperated.

"His mom's dead."

The words were blunt, like a rock plopping into a still lake; the ripples reverberated through Katara. "Rumour has it it has something to do with his dad and his work. Rumour also states that the apple didn't fall far from the tree – until the apple rolled to his uncle and begged for a second chance to grow up an oak instead of an fruit-loop bush..." Toph shrugged as if she'd been commenting on the weather. "But rumours are rumours, right?"

_His father killed his mother, he was kicked out of his family for following in his dad's footsteps, and his uncle was the only person who gave him a helping hand._

_He's been doing everything to prove himself a good man... And I've been making a fool out of him and his efforts to actually have a normal life._

The guilt dug into her with the force of a tide, slow at first, but building with each wave. _Aang was right. I've been a horrible person. _

She didn't know what to say.

Without another word, Katara got up and left the lunch table.

When she was safely out of hearing, Toph picked up her cell phone and dialed.

"Yeah... We'll see. At least she knows now."

"Thanks, Toph," said Aang's disconnected voice.

"You owe me cheese doodles and Cobra Starship tickets. Preferably paid at the same date and time."

"Consider it done," he chuckled, and hung up.

* * *

**(Late afternoon... again.)**

_Let's see, Aang's tutoring is Tuesdays and Thursdays... _

She turned around the last corner of the long, winding driveway and stared at the large house. She'd told Aang that one of their teachers had called a last-minute student rep meeting to go over something important to do with the next night's dance. Being a student-council rep, Aang had been obligated to follow-up.

That left her with just enough time to see Zuko alone before the younger man showed up for the tutoring. She was sure that in that meager interval of privacy, she could bring herself to apologise to Zuko, dig a bottomless pit of a hole, and leap in to die of embarrassment with plenty of time before her former best friend's arrival. _And hey, if I'm not done by then he'll probably kick me into that hole himself..._

Shaking the cynical thoughts from her mind, she reached out and pushed the doorbell.

Zuko must have been waiting directly on the other side, as the door swung open eagerly – then increasingly hesitantly– within seconds of her releasing the intercom button.

"... Uh... hi, Katara," his gold eyes looked at her curiously, and then glanced behind her without meaning to be rude. "Are you with Aang?" His expression clearly indicated he hoped she was.

"No, not today. He's... he told me to tell you he's going to be late," she lied.

"Ah. He can call, next time. Just so you don't have to go out of your way again, I mean!" the words rushed out, and he raised a hand as if to try and calm her, to retract any insult she may have taken from his carelessness. "Yeah, I'll just go wait for him, then. Did he say how long?" The young male stood in the doorway in jeans and a t-shirt, obviously having changed from his school uniform when he arrived home. It was the first time she'd seen him in such casual clothing. It made him seem less threatening, in a way.

Katara's lips tightened slightly._ He's trying to change; let him, _she reminded herself.

"No, he didn't. Look, could I come in? Please?" she added, remembering her manners. "I want to talk to you."

Zuko immediately went on guard.

"Uh..." White knuckles gripped the edge of the doorframe and he looked like he was ready to panic and bolt the door from the inside.

Katara winced. _Wow, I must be pretty terrifying if I can make a former gang-leader cringe like that..._

However, Aang's tutor's hesitation was also a bit endearing to her, and made the corner of one side of her mouth quirk up in an awkward smile; offering a truce.

"I want to apologise, Zuko," she said. "If you'll forgive me."

The words hung between them in the gap, and neither reached out to grab or support them.

Gold eyes looked downwards as the troubled young man took a step back as if to return inside; she held her breath, and waited for the rejection to be official.

Lips thinning, however, he didn't ignore her.

"Come in," he replied softly, and opened the door wider.

Katara's eyes shone ocean blue with relief, and she took a step towards him.

_I did it._ Her breath came out in a quiet rush of happiness, and she relaxed and followed him inside.

* * *

**(The next day at noonhour.)**

Zuko's class had let out a bit early, and he carried his lunch to the cafeteria to look for a quieter corner to eat, away from the rest of the established cliques and groups since he still didn't feel quite comfortable joining them.

He passed a bustling group and heard Aang's excited voice call out to him.

"Hey Zuko! We're over here!"

As he glanced that way, half a dozen hands were waving at him to get his attention (Aang's most energetically, accompanied by his usual smile) from an already-crowded table.

Without realising it, Zuko's mouth tilted in a rare, warm smile. "You look full–," he began, but walked towards them anyway.

"Always room for one more," said Sokka, pulling up a chair from another table when Toph elbowed him in the gut.

The chair settled between himself and Katara, and awaited his attendance

Zuko felt a twinge of nervousness shimmy down his core.

Glancing at the beautiful young woman, his eyes held a silent question. _Can I...?_

In return, Katara's solemn face held his gaze – before she cracked a rueful smile back and said, "You're late."

Zuko nodded, still a little shocked, and murmured thanks. _I'm forgiven._

As he accepted his new place within the group, Zuko Sozin finally felt he belonged. For the remainder of the lunc hour, the table of teenagers laughed and joked with him as if he'd always been among them.

"So Obi Wan Ke_NOOB_ie," Toph teased the newest inductee in their posse, "who're you taking to the dance tonight?"

Zuko's mouth fell a little open in surprise. _Dance?_

"Uh, I ... don't dance," he mumbled, and took a big bite of his lunch to cover up his embarrassment. All-male juvenile detention reform schools weren't exactly the best place to go about receiving dance training...

Toph smiled... like the Cheshire Cat who'd already known his secret.

"... We can fix that."

* * *

**TBC or The End.  
**

**AN: I hope you enjoyed this random one-shot! AvatarAiris asked for 'Katara' 'Zuko', and 'hanging out after school'. I did what I could – AvatarAiris, I hope you liked it! (My apologies if it isn't quite what you had in mind...) **


	12. Chapter 12

**Author: moor on / beyondthemoor on LJ  
Title: Merits  
Part : Eleven  
Genre: Romance/humour/vamp/Modern AU  
Fandom: Avatar: TLA  
Pairing: Zutara, Jetara**

**Length: 1900 words, approx.  
Rating: M  
Disclaimer : "Avatar: The Last Airbender" and all related rights belong to their original creators… I am not among their ranks.  
AN: In response to hyperroo' s vampire/Zutara challenge, I present…  
**

* * *

**"****Merits" – Part Eleven**

_At the club._

The spotlights shone from directly behind Toph, projecting her slender shadow out over the crowds and blinding anyone who looked too closely at her or her visitors that night. The music shook the room, as usual, and the dancing throngs were ignorant to the awkward hostility brewing on stage.

"I didn't know you were coming tonight," said Katara, emotionless, glancing at Aang. She'd just arrived at the top of the plateau where her best friend worked her magic and found she wasn't alone that evening. On one of the nearby armchairs (following Katara's complaints of a sore rear during her last visit, Toph now insisted on having comfortable surroundings when she worked), Aang sat relaxing and had been staring out over the crowd until he recognized her head pop up at the stairs.

"I'm just stopping by to talk to Toph." He glanced at the DJ who was at that moment revving the crowds with a jungle beat. It was still early, so she needed to warm her spectators thoroughly before leaving them to coast on house for a while. Gauging her fans' reaction, Toph experimented a bit with a new track she'd been working on; other than a brief wave, she hadn't acknowledged either of her guest's arrivals.

"I'll come back another time," pulling her winter coat tighter around herself, Katara turned and started back down the stairs.

"Wait!" he grabbed her sleeve impulsively.

Her heartbeat jumped and ran wild for a moment, before settling when she glanced at her ex-fiancé with a wary look.

Letting go of her, he reached up and rubbed the back of his head a bit uncomfortably, looking to the side for a moment before back at her again. "Sorry," he mumbled. "Uh, why don't you stay for a bit? You don't need to go."

Katara's stubborn pride was telling her to turn her back on him and go; her heart told her she knew better than to return his decision from several years ago back at him in childish retaliation. The air was considerably less stuffy on the raised podium

"I'm already here," she sighed, and joined him on one of the padded stools. She was glad to have a place to sit this time; the ground was clean where she'd settled the last time she came to see Toph, but it had been uncomfortable.

She looked over him then, from the corner of her eye, and in the over-bright light realized he had changed since she'd seen him last. Not the last time at her apartment, at the veiled 'welcome home' party – they'd hardly addressed each other that night. No, she was thinking of several years ago.

Compared to their last encounter before he left the country, his frame was still lean, but now toned with muscle; his face had formed a bit more, and hardened his jaw. He hadn't shaved his head since he'd arrived back by the looks of things, and instinctively she wanted to reach out and run her hand over the dark fuzz that now covered his skull like a soft moss over a calm forest's rocky slope, the way she used to love doing when they'd cuddle on the couch and discuss their wedding plans, and--.

She slapped the thought away irritably, but couldn't help but notice there was something else behind the changes she saw. It wasn't just physical. There was something deeper within him that had changed, too. His laughing, carefree manner was still there… but there was a certain maturity and confidence within him now, too.

_He's an old soul, _she heard the soft whisper from her core.

_He's an old soul with cold feet, _she argued back sarcastically.

Needing to break the silence and her examination of him, Aang smiled and leaned forward.

"She's gotten pretty good, huh?" he pointed at Toph.

"Yeah, she's had a lot of offers from major labels," replied Katara. They had to shout to hear each other over the music.

"Do you come often?"

"Now and then."

The conversation remained vague and impersonal.

For her part, Toph listened but didn't interfere. She really did need to test the waters with her new tracks to see which ones worked and which still needed work, and the Thursday crowds were slightly smaller and more intimate than the desperate, wild Friday and Saturday herds that threatened to burst the Bomber's seams.

Barefoot as usual, she felt the rhythms and stomping of her fans and basked in their enthusiasm and praise. Though she would never admit it, Toph loved her job. She'd always love the love. The glory of being the best didn't hurt, either.

It was closing in on eleven p.m. and the crowds were finally warmed up nicely.

She prepared to step away from her station to sit with Aang and Katara for a bit when she felt the same ghost-step she had the last time Katara had visited.

Toph straightened like a bird dog on a hunt, and faced the direction she'd felt the odd vibe emanate from.

_What was that? _She thought suspiciously, and 'scanned' the crowds with her feet.

A tremble, a slide, a step, she sent her senses out to detect anything that resembled the ghost-walker.

She waited.

It came again, from a different direction.

Immediately, she turned to that source.

_Same person. It has to be._

_They're quick, _she realized,_ or just very good at cutting through the crowd._

Keeping part of her focus on the strange vibe, instead of turning on the house so she could relax with her guests, Toph put on a more industrial track. It was a harsher transition than usual, but the crowd reacted as she expected.

The ghost-walker faltered before regaining his step.

_You don't belong here. Who are you? _She thought to herself.

As much as she wanted to charge down into the mass of bodies and yank the intruder out, she knew it was too reckless to leave her dais.

_I've got my feet's eyes on you, mister, _she thought to the man fiercely._ Just try and cause trouble._

With that, Toph resigned herself to just listening and waiting to find out what the man intended. She cut short the industrial, phased the house back in, and without a word of explanation about her strange twists in playlist that night, went to sit with her friends.

The ghost-walker disappeared, then reappeared a few more times while she talked.

She didn't miss a single move.

* * *

Around midnight, Katara bid Aang and Toph goodnight.

"Lab first thing," she explained as she put her jacket on again. "It was good seeing you both," she said truthfully. "We'll see if we can get together again soon." With Toph's participation, the conversation had turned lighter and more inviting. Entertaining, too. Katara was sorry to go, though her work demanded she must.

"Don't be a stranger," Toph grinned. "Unless you bring snacks after."

"Do you want me to take you home? I've got a car now…"

"Wait, you're going, too? I thought you were staying until 2!" exclaimed Toph.

"I'm fi--," Katara paused before she declined Aang's offer. Jet had told her to call him instead of walking home on her own. She didn't know if he was still awake, though.

Aang looked at her while she battled her indecision. Stubborn pride was one thing, but walking alone and making it home safely were another entirely.

Aang seized on her hesitation. "It's on my way," he added.

Grousing, Toph folded her arms in front of her and chewed the inside of her cheek. Fine, leave her to work by herself. She'd just sit here, and play with her peons—er, 'patrons'—and …

"Well, if it isn't a lot of trouble--."

But suddently the ghost-walker was suddenly at the base of the podium stairs, sending Toph straight into red alert-mode.

"Hold it right there, Mister!" she hollered, leaping to her feet and pointing down the stairway at the trespasser.

"What is it?" distracted from his talk with Katara, Aang looked at her as if she could teach 'warped' to a crazy person.

"Toph, what are you –_ Zuko!" _cried Katara as she peeped over her friend's shoulder; her voice mangled his name with surprise.

"This is Zuko?" asked Toph incredulously. There was a distinctly disappointed note to her voice. Katara glanced at Toph and willed her not to say anything about her earlier rant; it was already obvious that the DJ was at least aware of who he was.

The man in question glared up at the trio staring at him.

"What?" he asked softly, and despite how quiet his voice was, it rose to meet them easily.

Katara wasn't sure what to ask first; she was too stunned to have recognized him to think straight. She started with the obvious.

"…What are you doing here?"

"I heard it was pretty good. I came to see for myself."

Katara wasn't sure when he'd found time to socialize when he'd been so busy laying siege to her at her office, but she was about to steam at the ears that he'd invaded both her work space _and_her personal space now. The idea that he was stalking her flitted through her head, but she pushed it aside.

Her fists clenched minutely before she released them again. She refused to let him see how upset she was. Now was the perfect opportunity to start ignoring him, as Toph had said.

"Aang, let's go," Katara ordered and took her friend's hand, hauling him up behind her. Too confused to understand, Aang complied. She turned back to her other friend. "Toph, I'll see you later. Thanks for tonight," she smiled and gave her a quick hug. "I'll--."

"You'll call me, I know. Oh, do I know…" teased Toph, suffering the hug with her usual aplomb. Behind Katara's strong front, Toph knew her friend was a bit unsettled by Zuko's presence. She kept her senses alert to him while she said her goodbyes.

"Thanks, Toph. I'll see you later."

"Night, Aang," Toph waved and listened as they walked down the stairs together to head out a back door instead of trying to navigating through the crowds.

She felt the ghost-steps start to follow.

"Oh no you don't," she called to Zuko, and he turned his head towards her, scowling.

"What?" he demanded.

She wasn't sure.

Her hesitation was enough for him; immediately, he started turning away from her to leave, too.

"Don't!" ordered Toph, stamping her foot; through it, she felt him pause again. She also felt the people around her.

The crowds were getting restless, and horror of horrors she was beginning to hear them trying to talk to each other. It was beyond time to switch the tracks, but something held her there, rooted to the floor while she addressed the ghost-walking man.

Zuko glanced up at her one last time.

"I don't know who you are--," she started.

"You've said my name," he retorted.

"No, who you really are," corrected Toph thoughtfully. "But… There's something different about you."

She sensed him still.

"Go hit on someone else," he said, and walked away.

"I'll hit on whoever I damn well please!" she wanted to yell. At the moment, admittedly, all she wanted was to hit him, though--period.

Huffing angrily, she stomped back to her tables and livened up the crowds again.

Her hands moved deftly over dials and keys,and Toph lost herself in thought. She could see why Katara disliked Zuko. Still, he'd been unnerved by her picking him out of the crowd like that.

A smile slowly spread across her face; _so he doesn't like being the center of attention, huh? I'd hate to exploit that weakness._

_...Without a bus full of witnesses._

With that, she made it her personal mission to get under his skin in retaliation; partly, to vindicate Katara; mostly, however, for her own personal satisfaction.

She'd put a call through to her people that night and see what she could dig up about mister 'Zuko Sozin'.

* * *

******TBC.**

******AN: I hope you enjoyed the 'break' with the 'thank-you' fic last time, "In your own company"! Was it too much of a break? Should I post the thank-you fics outside the story? (Also, Castle Anthrax, you still need to let me know what you'd like in your own thank-you fic!) (Thank you very much for all your reviews, btw -- you guys're so nice!)  
**

******AN: Part Eleven: First posted March 2****nd**** 2008.**


	13. Chapter 13

**Author: moor on this site / ****beyondthemoor**** on LJ  
Title: Merits  
Part : Twelve  
Genre: Romance/humour/vamp/Modern AU**

**Fandom: Avatar: TLA  
Pairing: Zutara, Jetara  
Length: 1600 words, approx.  
Rating: M  
Disclaimer : "Avatar: The Last Airbender" and all related rights belong to their original creators… I am not among their ranks. **

**AN: In response to ****hyperroo****' s vampire/Zutara challenge, I present…  
**

* * *

"**Merits" – Part Twelve**

The night passed distantly by the windows as Aang handled the car only slightly awkwardly through the streets back to Katara's apartment building. Obviously, wherever he'd been over the past few years, he'd learned to drive but hadn't practiced it much. Katara tried not to think about the past, whether her own or his, as they vroomed along. Lights blinked and flashed on their faces as they passed by brightly-lit hotel signs and restaurants. The dark-haired passenger let her mind wander before noticing her friend's gray eyes glancing over to her every so often with curious concern.

_It isn't going to kill me to talk to him, _she reasoned. _We both know things are over. We can be 'adults' and be friends. He always was one of my best friends. I can treat him like Toph and we can go back to being happy, just not 'with' each other. _Pleased with her plan, she felt a modicum of peace steal over her uneasy insides. _We can finally be friends..._

"Thanks for offering the ride, I really appreciate it," Katara turned to look at Aang's profile. Her Caribbean-blue eyes conveyed her gratitude honestly. Inside the sporty Volkswagen Sokka had fixed up for Aang to use, the air vents blew warm air over her cool hands and she and Aang listened to the faint static playing on the radio. The CD changer was next on the list of Sokka and Aang's 'fix-it' list, Aang had assured her proudly when he'd led her to the 1987 Jetta in the Bomber's parking lot.

The old soul took her comment as a compliment.

"Happy to help!" he replied cheerfully, and grinned at her before turning back to focus on the road. "We haven't had much time to catch up together, anyway, since I got back," he added softly. His grin faded slightly to a sad smile as they came to a red light.

Still wary from her encounter with Zuko, Katara couldn't help her shoulders tensing and shifted instinctively in her seat away from him. "I think we should leave what's passed in the past," she added evenly. _Please, don't let this happen now, not after such a week with Zuko and meeting up with him at the Bomber, too. I just want to get home..._

Aang had known her long enough to recognize when she was feeling wary, yet refused to acknowledge her last statement; it was as if she hadn't spoken at all. Her ex-fiancé had other thoughts on his mind, and ignored her attempt to change the subject.

Looking straight ahead through the windshield as the car idled at the stoplight, Aang swallowed and finally took a quick peek at her. His lips pulled into his mouth tightly for a moment before he seemed to make a decision, and spoke.

"Katara, what happened, I'm sorry – it's just--."

Everything she didn't want to hear, he was trying to say. She wasn't ready for it. If she had been in any position to physically push him and his earnestness away, she would have done so; instead, she started to feel the warm air from the vents burn her, and the past push on her heart, suffocating her slowly with memory. Glancing at the hem of her coat, Katara tried to brush off the man's efforts and preserve the fragile friendship. "I don't want to hear any excuses, Aang. Not now, not ever."

_I don't ever want to remember... _She tried to push the topic away, to make him see that now, right that moment, it was the wrong time, the wrong place. Her tone was polite, even warm in its own way, but Aang either didn't hear or chose to ignore her.

"It was something I had to do, something I'd been chosen to do a long time ago, and I didn't have a choice--," as his words came out in a frenzied rush, Aang turned in his seat to face her completely, his left hand still on the wheel while his right hand supported himself as he leaned towards his passenger. The traffic light turned green, but Aang didn't notice.

"Aang," warned Katara a third time, as the car became increasingly uncomfortable.

"You have to listen to me, Katara. I mean it... I loved you. I still love you, I wouldn't have left if it wasn't something that had to be--."

The hot air from the vents was becoming unbearable, and Katara felt her hands and eyes burn.

"The light's green, Aang, let's go."

The panic in her voice escaped Aang as his hands tightened into fists, desperately trying to make her understand, to explain, to apologise. "I'm not going anywhere until you talk to me!" He exclaimed. "I spent years there, and all I thought, from the moment I woke up to the moment I fell asleep, was about you. You smiling, you laughing, you rubbing my head, you teasing me, you kissing me, your arms around me, your eyes full of tears when you cried hopelessly, you when you…" the description went on and on, until he realized Katara wasn't listening to him, either. At least, not what he was saying to her right then and there in the car...

His ex-fiancée was turned away from him, facing the windows, hunched in a tight ball, looking downwards. In the passenger window's reflection he could see how tightly she was clenching her teeth and trying not to lose whatever control she had left. For Katara, the week was too difficult, the night was too awkward, the man across from her was too close and the car was too small. Without meaning to, her heartbroken pride stumbled, and stumbled from her like a sob.

Outside the vehicle, the traffic light above them was still green. Honking noisily, other cars drove around them, some drivers shaking their fists, others gawking at the drama contained within.

"Katara," Aang reached forward and tentatively put a hand on her back to soothe her – she cringed in pain. "I want to say _'I'm sorry'_."

The sound of his voice breaking on the last words shattered her resolve.

Unable to hold it in anymore, for it had been years since she'd faced her disappointment and shame, Katara choked back a sob, sniffed. A moment passed, and foolishly she thought she'd held it back in time... until she felt herself weeping angrily. It wasn't just what had happened that night, it was a lot of things, she knew... but she had never healed from Aang leaving her, not really, and his apology just made it worse.

"Home," she ground out through her teeth, rubbing her eyes with the sleeves of her coat. She refused to let him see her tears directly.

"Katara…" he repeated gently, urgently, desperate to comfort her any way he could. Noting the green light was flashing to amber, he put the little car in gear and drove through the intersection, stopping just inside the first parking lot he came to. His seatbelt came undone and he reached to bring the woman he loved into his arms to hold her, not even waiting for the engine to turn off.

As the car came to a stop, the traffic light turned red; Aang's fingertips brushed her spine.

And pushed Katara over the edge.

"Don't touch me!" she spat, and whirled around to slap his arms away. Puffy red eyes and a wild anger flared at him, and her body language was amply clear – she didn't want his reassurances or happy endings.

"Don't you ever touch me again! Take me home right now or I swear I'm going to get out and walk!" she yelled, still brushing tears away from her face.

His arms were still outstretched to help her, his heart open to share with her everything. Her rejection had struck at him. Aang was too stunned to reply.

His mouth opened and closed a few times, but he couldn't seem to find the right words.

Breathing hard and rubbing her eyes on her sleeve again, Katara coughed and put her hand on the door handle.

"Either you put this car in 'drive', or I'm getting my morning exercise done real early," she threatened, and could tell by the hurt in his eyes Aang understood the severity of her words. Swallowing, sniffling, coughing again, but refusing to back down – the strong Katara he'd loved and cherished roared forward to face him head on. Tears leaked from the corners of her eyes, her cheeks were ruddy from the rubbing sleeve, but she was in control of herself now and knew exactly what she wanted and what she didn't.

She wanted to go home.

She didn't want him.

Aang stared tight-lipped at her another minute, and slid slowly back into his seat, his seatbelt snapping together with finality. They were on the road again at the next green light.

It was a quiet ride.

The only words exchanged from that moment to the time he dropped her off at home that night were goodbyes.

* * *

**TBC...**

**AN: Thank you for reading – I admit, this was a hard chapter. So, we finally see a bit of what happened between K & A...**

**AN: This chapter posted (early!) originally March 6, 2008.  
PS: Castle Anthrax and I have a surprise for you... I'll be posting C-A's 'thank you' fic later on; it is part of "Merits". Thank you very much for everyone who provided feedback on the earlier fic, "In your own company"!**


	14. Chapter 14

**Author: moor on / ****beyondthemoor** **on LJ  
Title: Merits  
Part : Thirteen  
Genre: Romance/humour/vamp/Modern AU**

**Fandom: Avatar: TLA  
Pairing: Zutara, Jetara  
Length: 4200 words, approx.  
Rating: M  
Disclaimer : "Avatar: The Last Airbender" and all related rights belong to their original creators… I am not among their ranks. **

**AN: In response to ****hyperroo' ****s vampire/Zutara challenge, I present…  
**

* * *

****

**"Merits" – Part Thirteen**

The next morning dawned cold, but clear, outside the windows of Katara's lab. Her students plodded away at their latest assignment, deliberately keeping their eyes averted from their lab TA. Some cast the occasional curious glance, and then looked to his or her partner for direction, but the result was always the same – a shake 'no' of the head, and an "I wouldn't do that if I were you"-caution in their eyes. It was a subdued atmosphere, though Katara didn't notice even a moment of the tranquility her students provided her.

At the front of the lab, the TA in question sat facing her students and not seeing a single one of them.

She didn't signal the end of the lab when their time was up. After a moment or two of indecision, one of the students just stood a little slowly, gave a meaningful look at the others, and led them to her desk to hand in their lab reports. Even Ken understood this was not the morning to bother their favourite teacher, though he couldn't help but offer a "Take care this weekend, Prof. Kuruk," and a sympathetic smile before he walked out the door.

A few minutes later, like an automaton, Katara picked up her papers and walked out.

* * *

Zuko heard Katara arrive in their office that morning and readied himself to ignore her thoroughly. He was sure she'd have at least some caustic remark about his presence at her favourite hang-out the night before, and was almost looking forward to goading her into an explosion of temper. He'd seen her bid farewell to who he assumed was her closest female friend--Toph--while she left with a male companion of some sort.

_Aang,_ he reminded himself absently_, she said_ _his name was Aang._ The young man had obviously been in love with her, but Zuko hadn't been able to discern if the feelings were mutual. There'd been something odd about him, he remembered, but he hadn't been able to pinpoint what that oddness was.

In reality, Zuko's reasons for going to the club were two-fold: he had wanted to see Katara again, in order to get a sense of her routine outside of work; however, he'd also been hungry, and the club provided a buffet of potential volunteers. He'd returned home fairly satisfied on both counts. He'd spent the time until morning in a pleasant, well-fed haze.

So, after all his anticipation, he was quite disappointed when his new toy slid quietly behind her desk, turned on her computer, and stared zombie-like at the screen.

She hadn't even said hello.

From the corner of his good eye, Zuko observed her carefully for any indication as to why she wasn't her usual cheery, annoying self. A little surprised, he realized she looked a bit like death warmed over: worn, gaunt, and lifeless.

Humming softly, the computers in the room were the only noise disturbing the silence. Several minutes later Katara was still lost in her own thoughts – or so consumed by them she couldn't escape.

Unreasonably upset at her lack of participation, Zuko felt cheated. His impatience was prodding him to provoke her, however his pride rebelled and refused to lose face by acknowledging her, least of all by indicating he'd noticed her change in humour.

Pride overpowered patience; taking a breath to clear his head, he kept his head down and went back to work.

_There's always lunch,_ he reminded himself.

Katara eventually pulled out her labs, corrected them, and put them away again; she flipped through her e-mail; she even tried to do her readings, but became so restless and frustrated that she pushed them on to the floor beside her bag. They landed with a mild clatter, spilling papers off to the side. She looked down at the messy pile, but shrugged her shoulders and turned to stare out the window.  
Seeing Aang last night had done something to her emotionally; some manner of cruel, invisible, dreadful weariness had enshrouded her since she walked away from his car.

Her bitter past had run up and assaulted her hard-earned present.

All her hopes and dreams, all the plans she'd made, everything, every where she'd planned on taking her life since his departure had crashed around her shoulders and crumpled to her knees… and left her lost in thought since she returned home. She didn't remember sleeping in her bed last night, or waking, just going through her routine motions to survive her day.

She'd spent several years ignoring her rejection and the heartless way she was cast aside. With Toph and Sokka's help, she'd focused on her new goals and overcome the shame and humiliation she'd felt the day she spent alone at the beach, surrounded by loved ones. She'd even moved on to start seeing someone else, someone she truly cared for… and now _he_ came back and wanted to start up again where they'd left off, as if he'd never left?

Her heart ached and felt raw; her head felt cloudy and tired; her stomach felt tight and sick.

…She didn't eat lunch.

* * *

Zuko had to physically restrain himself from shoving his desk out of the way to reach out and shake her. Instead, he kept his head down, pretending to ignore her. An hour later she left again for her afternoon seminar.

She didn't say 'goodbye' or 'later.'

Zuko fumed as he contained his tantrum.

When she returned and showed signs of alertness – though still ignored him – she moved on to her project and lost herself in legends for several hours.

Satisfied she wasn't as undead as he was, he went back to ignoring her.

* * *

_The Legend of Yue the Moon Spirit_

The legend wasn't as old as most of the stories she'd looked over; however, it had been one of the easiest to compare to the maps and environmental references she'd dug up, since it had happened so recently in comparison to the other events. It had been fairly well documented, too…

In the mid-1800s, one of the First Nations tribes had been herded like cattle onto a reservation in the Northern Territories. They'd lived in and around the area, traveling back and forth for generations. Now their movements were restricted and they were confined to the reservation and hunting within just a few miles of its limits. The mining town erected nearby had prompted the reservation's establishment, and while relations were tense, they were also relatively peaceful. The local nations had even provided the new townspeople generously with food and furs during a storm that had wiped out a supply train on its way to them. The miners and their families never forgot the gesture. On Katara's maps, the mining village and reservation were separated by a river.

The town itself gathered many travelers and drifters looking for work. Some stayed and settled, others moved on. No one batted an eye if someone showed up for work for a week and then disappeared the next—it was just assumed they'd gotten itchy feet and felt the need to move on.

The mining town thrived for a period. Alongside it, the reservation started to feel the pain of hunger and frost, as their hunting grounds were now subject to poaching from the drifters who didn't know or chose to ignore the stories of the storm-gifts from the Native band.

The tribe's people fell on increasingly harsh times; they prayed to the Spirits to send them aid, or guide them to better lands. Within the tribe there were those who were close to the Spirits, and they prayed all day and long into the night. The chief's daughter, Yue, was among those spiritualists and, while young, her peace and strength of will provided support for her tribe. The young men in the tribe all followed Yue's advice, and the women, too. The tribe's warriors sought her wisdom before setting off for war, and in times of peace to get the Spirits' permission to hunt extra game for festivals and celebrations.

Yue did not work alone, however; she was complemented by the Protector, the strongest warrior within her tribe. He was her guardian and looked after the tribe's physical well-being and the other warriors' training. Yue was the heart and spirit of the tribe; the Protector was its arms and legs. Together, as they were to remain together through life, they made the Water Tribe band whole.

During this time of depression within the tribe, Yue spent a week drinking only water and praying to the Spirits for guidance. At the end of the week, the Protector found her collapsed and rushed her to a healing hut. He stood watch over her bedside until she woke the next day.

Even before her clear blue eyes opened, she faced her Protector and spoke a prophecy in a clear, emotionless voice: the tribe would be saved by famine and disease, and would vanish when it was safe; dead arms would heal a broken heart, appeased, and would reunite, like love, by fate.

That day, a drifter arrived at the tribe's reservation.

The drifter came bearing no weapons and no tools; carrying no canteen and no bedroll; and was not a fellow tribesman, but seemed to be aware of the tribe's customs when the individual made their way straight to the ceremonial outbuilding and dragged a sled of animal pelts and meat to the chief.

In return, the drifter asked only for a place to sleep for the night. On the floor of Yue's hut.

The Chief rejected.

The Protector threatened.

Yue looked at the visitor, and asked the individual to follow her; and then looked at the Protector, and asked him to stand guard outside her door.

The starving village ate well for the first time in months that night, and sent elaborate offerings to the Spirits in gratitude.

The visitor left early the next morning, before any others had woken.

It was the beginning of a cycle of visits from the visitor.  
Coincidentally, it was also the time a rash of disease spread through the mining town. It started close to the waterway, with townspeople falling ill to a mysterious illness, but soon spread to nearly the entire town.

The Water Tribe people outside the town's limits on the reservation, a sister-tribe to Katara's own people, also started falling ill, though not in the same numbers; their numbers were restricted to those who found occasional work in the town.

Slowly, anemia and poisoning started dwindling the numbers on both sides of the waterway.

A month after the first visit, the stranger returned, bringing fresh animals and water. Too sensitive to the suffering of her people, Yue again brought the drifter to her hut. The night was long and cold.

The Protector hated every minute he stood outside her door.

The starving people thanked Yue for her sacrifice; her father and Chief cursed the Spirits for bringing such a plague upon them that they were forced to accept the visitor's 'gifts.'

Each month, the illness spread, the people weakened.

Each month, the visitor returned.

After each visit, Yue's people regained their strength and forged on.

It continued for over a year before the Protector left his post at Yue's side and followed the visitor home one morning, without Yue's or the tribe's consent. He suspected the drifter was a demon, sent to poison the village and tribe in order to indebt them to the demon's 'goodwill,' and was determined to find and destroy the source of its power.

Few had noticed the change in Yue over the past year, but ever present beside her, the Protector knew. He had seen the way her skin had become pale, her hair turned white, her calmness turned to listlessness. She also had strange fits, her gums were shriveling away from her teeth, and she'd become withdrawn, only going out in early morning or at night. One day, she'd received terrifying burn-like lesions on her skin when she went out to speak to a wise woman at noon…

Yet her drive had doubled, and so had her restlessness. It was like she couldn't hold herself together between visits from the strange demon anymore.

She cried out for the demon in her sleep; its name fell soundlessly from her lips when she was awake and her thoughts drifted away from her; she yearned for it and wanted it.

The Protector knew the visitor was aware of this compulsion, too. Yue's desperation tore at his soul, and he couldn't stand to see her suffering any longer.

So when the demon left before daybreak, he followed it.

He followed the visitor for hours, days, and through several nights, too. The demon didn't stop for long at the town, and didn't sleep at all at night, as the Protector had already realized and anticipated it would do.

The sun rose and fell, and the demon continued on. The Protector was never far behind. They traveled into the wilderness.

On the fourth day without rest, even the Protector started to fatigue; by the end of the fifth day, he fell to the ground, exhausted.

It was exactly what the visitor had been waiting for – and the Protector realized that far, far too late.

The visitor returned some days later to the tribe, and again took its place within Yue's hut.

The Protector never returned.

With the visitor's return each time, the Tribe prospered; the warriors, however, distrusted the individual and were suspicious of the drifter's motivations in having such access to their spiritual leader. Soon, the warriors started weakening and disappearing. The Chief had noticed they, too, had started changing; becoming fitful, their skin paling, their teeth becoming more prominent. He began to feel the clutches of fear tighten around his heart, and couldn't help wondering about the prophecy.

Without the warriors and hunters, the tribe became completely dependent on the visitor.

It was like a kind of plague; soon, anemia overtook the tribe the way it had the mining village.

The fingers of the death-spirits started reaching for the children and elderly of both settlements.

No matter how hard Yue prayed, or how much she sacrificed, she could not reach the Spirits to request guidance.

Finally, without the Spirits' telling, Yue spoke to her father and pleaded with him to take the remaining Tribe and leave the area; she claimed there must be poison about, as even the fish and game they consumed were now polluted. Devastated, but understanding his daughter's pleading, the Chief nodded and within days the survivors had gathered their possessions and set off.

Yue stayed to appease the local Spirits and beg forgiveness for her selfish desire to save her people.  
Years later, when a member of her tribe came back to the village to bring her to their new encampment, there was no sign of the demon.

And not one, but two skeletons were found.  
The Protector had returned to Yue's side.

_The tribe would be saved by famine and disease,  
And would vanish when it was safe;  
Dead arms would heal a broken heart, appeased,  
And would reunite, like love, by fate._

The famine ended and the tribe was saved, yet the famine had worsened it in equal measure and the tribe –its departed members, its heart in Yue, and its arms in the Protector— had vanished. Still, the tribe had prospered elsewhere; and Yue and the Protector had traveled to the Spirit World together. The tribesman who'd come to collect Yue returned to the new village, and relayed that their village was finally at peace with the Spirits.

The prophecy had been fulfilled.

* * *

Katara's eyes moved despondently over her notes scribbled in the margins of the legend she'd retold in written form.

The mining town had had very few survivors. The mine itself hadn't been properly reinforced; mercury had leaked into the water supply. It had affected both peoples tragically.

The reservation had been preserved by the 'visitor's' gifts of unpolluted food for a time – but it looked to her like the band's hunters had gone out and tried to get local game to supplement the lean times between visits and ended up poisoned, regardless. The symptoms she remembered the victims having suffered from matched up with anemia, and some with porphyria, too. Especially the Protector's description of Yue – though to him, she was slowly turning into a 'demon' like her visitor.

All because of the mercury.

Katara felt loneliness envelop her as she read through the story; partly from Yue's self-sacrifice for her family, but mostly because it reminded her of her own people. She missed her family and her own tribe when she remembered the legends and myths she grew up with. She had done her best as she'd matured to write them down, but the oral traditions were fading faster than she could write. She'd left for school on a scholarship when she'd been eighteen, the hope of her people to come back and help improve their poverty. She was terrified of disappointing them, but just as scared of losing her own traditions while she was so far from them.

"Make your own traditions," the memory of Aang's voice broke delicately through her daydream.

"_What are you talking about? These are sacred legends, Aang, I can't discard them – I won't!" she'd argued stubbornly as they'd sat at their kitchen table one afternoon, sun spilling over both of them.  
"I didn't say get rid of the old ones – remember them, they're important! But don't be afraid to adapt the ones you can't entirely remember so that you can keep passing them down to your own kids… Maybe our kids…" he'd said, taking her hand. _

"_I don't have any traditions, Katara." His normally carefree voice was serious. "I want to know yours. All I know about my past is my name and where I'm from. I know one story, and then I was sent off to live with my 'Uncle' Gyatso. I know he wasn't my 'real' uncle, but he treated me great and he was the closest thing to a dad that I ever had… but that's as close as I ever got to knowing 'family' and 'tradition.'" His gray eyes had looked at her with so much compassion, she knew the lesson was coming next and wasn't disappointed. "Don't let what you can't remember cloud what you can. Ok?"  
Twining their fingers together, she'd looked back at him with a rueful smile.  
_"'_Our kids,' huh? Planning a little far in advance, aren't we?" she'd teased, and had laughed out loud at his resulting blush. He'd reached back to rub the back of his head, as he always did when he was embarrassed, before looking away momentarily to whistle Dixie and then offer to go get more vegetarian pizza…_

"… phone…" the voice sounded far-off, and Katara felt wetness at her eyes.

"… Katara, phone… going off…" Damnit, she hated remembering her former fiancé and how they'd been. And why the Hell was there someone talking to her? Actually, where was she? Katara's throat felt swollen, as if she'd been crying without shedding tears.

"Katara, your phone has been ringing for ten minutes. Answer it," growled Zuko from across the room.

Startled, Katara glanced at the clock on her desk and read 8:38 p.m. on the face. It was night in her office. Only Zuko's lamp was on, and the stars had come out in the sky outside her window. The blinds were still open.

Her phone was indeed ringing, and about to fall off her desk; but she found she was still frozen in place.

Making a frustrated noise, Zuko leapt up and grabbed her phone just before it slid off the surface onto the linoleum.

"_WHAT?"_ he barked at the caller. He paused a moment before shoving the phone in Katara's face.  
She looked at him, confused.

"It's for you," he ground out with forced patience.

"Ah…" She felt her arm move automatically to accept the offending instrument. "Thanks… Hello?"  
The second she accepted the phone was the same second Zuko turned on his heel and stalked back to his desk. Katara stared at his back for a moment, trying to make sense of the words coming through the speaker of the dolphin-charmed handset.

"Katara, are you ok? Who was that guy? Where are you?" Jet's questions rapid-fired at her through the cell-phone and Katara blinked and rubbed her eyes a moment, as if it would help clear her jumbled thoughts. "I'm… fine. That was my new roommate at work. I'm at work, in my office… still."

"You don't sound ok," he disagreed immediately. "Stay there, I'm coming right over."

"No, it's ok, Jet. I'm fine, really!"

"No way, I want to meet this guy who's been harassing you all week, we need to talk."

The hair on Katara's arms stood up slightly in apprehension; Jet was really worked up.

"No, no, it's ok, I'm just shutting down. I'll meet you at the front doors, ok? I promise, I'm just tidying up."

"I'll be there in ten minutes, stay put at your office, I want you to stay safe," he ordered and hung up.

Katara pulled the phone away from her ear and stared at it incredulously… before feeling the warm, familiar bubble of anger swell within her then passing like a wisp of morning mist in the wind.  
_How dare he tell me to 'stay put'?_ she thought to herself. _I am not a dog._

"Welcome back to the world of the living," remarked Zuko with disinterest.

Katara's head snapped up when she heard him speak, completely shoving her insulted pride off the board. What was going on? Was Zuko speaking to her? Even if he was being a pretentious prick… it was progress!

"… Thanks. I think…"

Zuko didn't say anything else as he started shutting down his computer; she did the same, and together they packed up their things.

"Was I … out for long?" she asked him uncomfortably, as he fastened the clip on his laptop bag.

"I didn't really pay attention."

Her blue eyes narrowed, causing a furrow in her brow, but Katara held her peace.

"Sorry about my phone going off."

As per Zuko Sozin's standard operating procedure… he ignored her.

The Water Tribe woman resisted the urge to roll her eyes at her roommate and instead settled back in her chair again to wait for Jet.

It had been several minutes since his call. With the computers turned off, there was no sound in the room. It was almost peaceful.

Finishing up the last of his things, Zuko slid on his jacket and made to turn off his light – but his hand stilled above the switch, and he turned to look expectantly at her. It was the only light in the room.

"Oh, right, thanks," Katara mumbled the words and fumbled to turn on her own lamp. The light in the room temporarily doubled and made the room much more inviting. "Thanks," she repeated.

Zuko turned off his lamp and made to leave. He made it as far as the door.

"Thanks again for, uh, waking me up," she repeated, trying to sound friendly. It might be late, but even a last-ditch effort at 'ending on a positive note' was worth it if it meant the rest of their term together could become pleasant. Katara waited with wary optimism. Did she dare hope they'd finally become, if not friends, at least 'passable acquaintances'?

Zuko nodded a bit, one hand on the door. It swung partway open, and then stopped.

Katara's spirits lifted; this could be it, the moment she'd been hoping for!

_Please Spirits, just let us get along; we don't have to be buddies, we just have to not hate each other! … Ok, I'll admit, being able to chit-chat would be a bonus, but please treat me sympathetically…_

Then the scarred man did something completely strange: he looked her straight in the eye and held her gaze.

Katara's mouth went dry… there was something uncanny in the look. She felt the compass needle of her optimism start to swing south…

Zuko's good eyebrow rose as he stared at her a moment, and then spoke.

"Does he always tell you what to do?" he asked casually, pausing for her reply.

And in the split second that followed, her cheeks flushed and all Katara saw was red as her temper flooded her; he had hit below the belt.

"That is none of your business, you condescending, insufferable jerk! How dare you ask me that! That is none of your business!"

Zuko turned his back on her while she continued her tirade, and made his way down the hall; he could still hear her envenomed sputtering when he reached the stairs.

As she saw him turn the corner, Katara would have sworn she saw the warped man's shoulders move as if he were laughing. She was practically stamping her foot in anger.

* * *

"Definitely worth it," he sighed to himself with smirk, and headed to the parking lot to grab his car. The weekend had definitely started on a good note… for him.

Inside the office, a very concerned Jet panted after arriving on a dead run, only to discover his girlfriend had turned into a seething pit viper.

Oddly enough, at this, he felt relieved…

* * *

**TBC...**

AN: IMMENSE thanks to renagrrl for her beta-assistance with this chapter! Please comment and give her a hand! XD  
AN: Sorry, this chap's coming a day or so early since I'm away in Toronto this weekend. I hope you enjoyed reading it!  
AN: This chapter first posted to this site 13 March 2008. (PS: I'm working on taffy0823's 'thank you' fic as we speak!... er, read!...er... well, you get the idea. Have a super weekend!)


	15. Chapter 15

**Author: moor on this site / beyondthemoor on LJ  
Title: Merits  
Part : Fourteen  
Genre: Romance/humour/vamp/Modern AU**

**Fandom: Avatar: TLA  
Pairing: Zutara, Jetara  
Length: 3000 words, approx.  
Rating: M  
Disclaimer : "Avatar: The Last Airbender" and all related rights belong to their original creators… I am not among their ranks. **

**AN: In response to hyperroo' s vampire/Zutara challenge, I present…  


* * *

**

"**Merits" – Part Fourteen**

_The night was calm, yet under her blankets Katara slept fitfully. Her dreams melted together._

"You were accepted?" Aang's enthusiasm shone through the phone. "Katara, that's amazing! Congratulations, I'm so proud of you!"

They laughed together happily and made plans to celebrate.

_The scene shifted and they were outside a hospital room, Aang holding her close as they waited for news from the doctor._

"He'll be ok, Katara. It was just a minor accident at the shop, and you know Sokka, he'll be back on his feet in no time."

"He's my only brother, Aang. My only family…" She felt the tears well up and threaten to spill down her reddened cheeks again. Her fingers were threaded together tightly and her knuckles were white, but she didn't notice until Aang placed a calm, reassuring hand over them to temper their trembling.

"So we better be prepared for all the belly-aching he's gonna give us when it comes time for us to look after him," he joked and rolled his eyes comically. "Can you imagine? It'll be, 'Katara, can you get me a glass of water?' or 'Aang, do you know where I put the remote?' or 'Guys, I gotta go to the bathroom… Guys?'" 

It took a moment to sink in, but Aang's imitation of Sokka's whiny voice was so apt that the young woman couldn't help but snicker.

For a while, the snickering laughter and choking sobs alternated, but eventually petered out to a calmed state of being.

"Thanks," she sniffled and felt her boyfriend place his chin on her head and nod.

"Anytime," he whispered, kissing the top of her hair. "You know I'll always be there for you, right?""Mmmm," she smiled and hugged him back, grateful for his promise.

_The dream changed again and this time Katara was at the beach in her wedding gown before all the guests, mostly family-friends and close acquaintances. Her stomach had been in knots, but Toph had reassured her dozens of times, yes, she was doing the right thing and yes, Aang loved her more than the Earth needed the heavens above._

Everyone was there. Everyone. Except the groom.

They waited 5 minutes… 10 minutes… half an hour…

Sokka couldn't reach Aang on his cell phone.

Toph couldn't trace any accident reports from the emergency services.

They waited three hours, inviting the guests to please help themselves to food and celebrate first, they'd do the 'official part' later…

Katara's heart felt frozen; she'd been terrified something had happened to Aang.

Four hours later, a letter arrived from Aang.

He'd left in the wee hours of the morning by plane.No date of return.

No explanation.

No goodbye.

Toph had let her drink herself stupid that night, and when she was done screaming, crying, and vomiting, brought her back to her hotel room and stayed until morning. 

Not another word was spoken about Aang, the wedding, or the promise he hadn't kept.

_The bedsheets twisted around her and Katara felt heat burning her from the inside out. It was too hot, too clingy, too wet, too suffocating, too—_

She was swimming in warm water now, through beautiful twisting coral reefs; around her, colourful fish in reds, blues, greens, and orangey-yellows darted between the outcroppings. The scenery had the most ephemeral beauty she'd ever witnessed and she wished she had a camera to remember it by. How elegant the schools of the glittering fish fins looked as they wove around her in perfect harmony and synchronization.

Suddenly, the multi-coloured companions shot away in a thousand directions, faster than lightning; and Katara felt a chill settle in her spine as she was covered by a shadow, the shadow that must have spooked the fish. When she glanced up she nearly choked on a scream at the size of the shark that was prowling the water just above her.

The prehistoric, white-bellied creature lurked gracefully overtop of her, taking its time as it surveyed the seabed for food. It was huge; Katara estimated it must have weighed in at over a ton, and it had to be at least twenty feet long from razor-toothed snout to the whip of its tail.  
As fear settled in Katara's gut, she prayed she could make it out of the water in time, behind the shark as it moved away; to her horror, as she started towards the surface the shark changed course minutely… and she realized that it had started circling her. 

The tropical reefs disappeared and the water blackened; in her dream, it became a race against time between her desperate kicking to the surface and her pursuer's powerful tail propelling itself towards her with gaping, massive jaws. The water around Katara turned arctic and her breath scorched her lungs as it begged to explode within her, and she reached the surface only to find it blocked by a ceiling of solid ice. Air bubbles escaped her mouth and nose as she beat against the ice, no longer bothering to look back at the beast closing in on her or thinking of the suffering that would ensue.

Then she saw the outline of a person on the other side of the ice, as eagerly trying to break through the frozen barrier as she was. A scream erupted from her throat, in spite of her knowledge that the person on the other side probably couldn't hear her anyway, but she had to do something to try and get to them, to get help, to get away from the shark that must be just about to close in on her.

Katara felt the water currents around her shift and knew the horrifying monster was upon her.

It was too late; water closing in over her head and dribbling down her throat as she clawed at the wall of ice. Her nails scratched at it, she pounded it with her fist, and all the while the air pushed at her lungs, bubbled from her mouth and nose and she was swallowing it now, just trying to get the strength to break through the ice to get to the precious air and safety above. But the water was too cold, her fingernails were torn, her lungs were filling, she was choking, she was trying to push, to kick, to hit through the ice, but she was taking in more water; she was drowning.

_Spirits, help me!_ she cried despite her tears making no difference in the water around her; she was dying. As she saw the rows of teeth of the shark's mouth surround her, she glanced at the creature's side and saw it had gold eyes, just as the ice above her shattered and she reached for the hand her rescuer thrust towards her, and saw that the faceless rescuer's eyes were the same gold, gold like the sun that shone in the darkness, just as the teeth grabbed hold of her and the blackness consumed her whole.

* * *

Thrusting the covers away from her, Katara bolted upright in bed, panting, and started sucking in deep gulps of air. Tears continued to stream down her face and her body was racked with tremors.

The corner of the blanket still held in her hand shook… until Katara realised it was her hand that was shaking from holding the material so tightly. Releasing each finger, one by one, she forced herself to slow her breathing, and her racing heartbeat.

_Was that… a panic attack?_ she wondered, staring at the blackness around her room.

The sound of the refrigerator hum was the only thing she heard when she extended her senses to take in her surroundings.

The clock beside her bed blinked 12:00 a.m. … and she remembered that she had pretty much destroyed it the last time it had gone off.

For a few minutes, she sat there, calming herself and trying to settle her nerves. Finally, she pushed her damp hair away from her face, and noticed that her pillow was soaked… and that it was from her own tears, going by how sore her eyes felt.

"You're just stressed out, from work, from him coming back, from getting into a fight with Zuko, then getting into a fight with Jet, then…" her words drifted off on their own.

Wow, she really had a terrible week.

And now she was left sweating miserably in clammy bedding.

"Ugh."

Without further consideration, she climbed clumsily out of bed, disentangled herself from the twisted cotton, and went to change the sheets.

_xXx_

"What do you mean you want to come over?"

"Exactly what I said. Let's hang out," with her kitchen light on and clean bedding on her bed, Katara dried her just-showered hair with a towel.

"Katara, I'm still at work." Toph's voice had a very patient tone to it, as if she were speaking to a very developmentally delayed child. Or Katara when she was doing something stupid.

"Oh, that's perfect – I'll go over and get things ready. We'll have a spa day! Er, night!" volunteered Katara enthusiastically.

"When I get home, I go to bed."

"Then we'll save it until morning – it'll give the cucumber slices more time to chill, and I'll make that really good avocado mask that you like, and – "

"Katara, whatever you're on, I hope you didn't get it from the club the other night," sighed Toph, though despite the music blaring in the background Katara could still make it out. She could even tell when Toph put a tired hand up to her eyes to rub them in frustration. "Remember the 'strangers with candy' talk?"

"Oh no, not at all, I'm not on anything; I just thought that it'd be fun to have a girls' night."

"You know, Katara," started Toph, "it's one thing to organize a girls' night and plan it for the evening; it's another thing entirely to foist it on me while I'm at work and it's nearly 3 in the morning!" She heaved a heavy sigh, and felt her shoulders slump when Katara paused instead of fighting back. "What's wrong?"

"… nothing."

"Yeah, yeah, 'nothing' my butt. What happened?" she asked in a long-suffering voice.

Toph stifled a knowing groan, and resigned herself to smelling like cucumber-melon stuff and fruity chip-dip in the near future; Katara's personal issues seemed to become her personal issues once more, and she almost made a snarky comment about how much easier her life would be if she'd left her friend to die of alcohol poisoning on the beach several years earlier – but even Toph recognized the limits of her insensitivity. And she had a feeling the events at the beach, along with Aang's reappearance, had something to do with Katara's sudden desire for female companionship. 

"OK, Katara, you head over to my place and set things up, and I'll wrap things up early and be back in a few hours. I'll send a car to get you in about 20 minutes; there'll be somebody who'll take you shopping for whatever you need, got it?"

Still sitting at her kitchen table, Katara nodded, guilt-ridden but too grateful to back down.  
"Katara, you there?" asked Toph when her friend didn't reply. She plugged her ear with a finger to better detect Katara's reply.

"Yeah, I'm here. Thanks, Toph. I'll see you later. Want me to pick you up from work?" she asked eagerly.

"Yeah, sure, why not? But don't bring any goop with you in the car, got it? Leather cleans up easy, but it's hell getting guacamole stains out of my clothes…"

The women hung up after quick goodbyes.

Toph turned to Aang who sat beside her in her crow's nest above the dancing crowds, avidly trying to eavesdrop on the call.

"If this is your fault," she threatened, poking him in the chest heartily, "and I end up looking like Rave Master Barbie, I swear you are going to pay dearly, Twinkle Toes."

"Did she mention me?" he asked eagerly. Though she couldn't see it, his gray eyes were huge with anticipation.

"Augh!"

As she smacked the lovesick fool roughly out of the way, Toph briefly considered making them both pay, just for the Hell of it. 

* * *

Several hours later, Katara was fidgeting within the towncar parked near the rear entrance of the Bombshelter.

"Think she's done yet?" she asked the driver for the third time in the past 10 minutes.

"She'll come when she's done," replied the driver – also for the third time in the past 10 minutes. He didn't even glance at her, too engrossed was he in the wrestling news of the sports section of his newspaper. 

Katara glared at him, clearly not getting the hint.

"Should we call her?"

Instead of wasting more words on his anxious passenger, the large, balding man calmly pushed one finger down on the automatic window button and lowered the glass. The familiar _bmp-bmp-bmp_ of club music floated into the car for a few moments. He released it and raised the window again when he recognized a scowl of understanding cross Katara's face.

"Ugh, she said she'd be done by now!" Clearly miffed, Katara crossed her arms and sat back on the leather seats and tried to find a way to pass the time.

Nothing came to mind other than dragging Toph physically from her turn tables.

So, that's exactly what Katara decided to do.

"I'll be right back with Toph," she explained in a rush as she slid out the door of the car and tucked her jacket more tightly around herself. 

Waving impassively, the driver just nodded as if he'd been expecting her to do something along those lines anyway. 

Outside the inviting warmth of the vehicle, the cold snap hadn't let up yet and the night had turned particularly blustery. It was difficult to see the other, unoccupied cars parked in the rear lot, though Katara could tell from the drifts there were at least a few there. None had engines running, unfortunately, so it looked like no one had started leaving yet. 

_Damn Toph and her phenomenal talents sometimes…_

Burrowing into the collar of her sweater (it peeked up over her jacket's collar, and she hadn't been able to find her scarf in the past few days), she scurried through the low snow drifts to the backdoor. Of course, with snow comes ice…

Her reflexes were just quick enough to catch hold of an old crate as she slipped and went down – however, her purse wasn't as lucky and flew a few feet away, landing with a soft _puff_ into a bit of snow just beside a snow-covered car to her right. Mentally cursing the frozen element's audacity to trip a Water Tribe native, the young woman detoured from her original path to the club's rear entrance and stooped to pick up her wayward bag.

As she straightened, dusting the snow off her things, she realized the nearby car wasn't unoccupied, as she'd originally assumed; the windows weren't covered in frost the way the other cars' were, though they were opaque.

And then she heard… the noises.

Rolling her eyes, Katara backed away from the vehicle and hoped she hadn't interrupted the lovebirds inside. 

She was climbing the stairs to the rear entrance's door when she heard one of the car's doors open behind her. Deliberately ignoring it, she was halfway up when she heard the young woman giggle faintly and climb out, and the man's deep, smooth voice speak some trivial thing to her in slow, persuasive tones. Katara could practically hear the floozy nodding dumbly in acceptance to whatever he was asking.

Katara's shoulders tensed the next moment as she recognized the male voice, and her hand paused just above the doorknob.

_No, it couldn't be…_

_Just go inside, Katara. You don't want to know. Right now, you really don't want to know… _Her inner voice pleaded with her to preserve her ignorance.

"Now run along," she heard him say clearly, as if he were talking to a small child. The woman must've followed his instructions to the letter as the next thing Katara knew, a dazed young female in inappropriate, flashy clothing was coming up the stairs behind her.

Inside her stomach, Katara felt nearly ill.

_I have to get away from this._

In her rushed effort to get away, she yanked on the door handle too quickly and spun a bit, somehow ending up automatically holding the door open for the girl behind her as if in courtesy.

As she looked back, she caught sight of the scarred man staring back at her from the driver's side window.

Zuko's look held no warmth at her recognition.

Ducking her head and passing into the darkened club, Katara heard the Audi engine rev as the driver peeled out of the snowy lot.

* * *

**TBC...**

**AN: Many thanks to ****renagrrl**** for beta-ing this chapter for me! (Rena, the end-notes were not lost on me, and I'll be referring back to them in a later chapter or two.)  
AN: Thank you for reading!  
(PS: Yes, I'm still working on the thank-you fics!)**


	16. Chapter 16

**Author: moor on this site / beyondthemoor on LJ & blogger  
Title: Merits  
Part : Fifteen  
Genre: Romance/humour/vamp/Modern AU  
Fandom: Avatar: TLA  
Pairing: Zutara, Jetara  
Length: 1600 words, approx.  
Rating: M  
Disclaimer : "Avatar: The Last Airbender" and all related rights belong to their original creators… I am not among their ranks.  
AN: In response to hyperroo' s vampire/Zutara challenge, I present…  
**

* * *

"**Merits" – Part Fifteen**

"Not interested, thanks," the brown-haired young man barely glanced at the gentleman who'd accosted him, and he walked away in no particular hurry. Pretending to hide their disappointment at his departure, the group of young women who'd hovered around him while he paid for his usual cuppa joe smiled and parted as he nodded politely to them and stepped back from the mobile canteen.

_I see… _The dark-clothed man who'd approached the Water Tribe girl's boyfriend watched him take a swig of coffee from his paper cup as he returned to the factory where he worked shifts, clad in his standard-issue overalls and safety boots. A supervisor of some sort gave the young man a look as he reached the door; Jet deposited his usual toothpick into the smoking bin by the employee entrance before stepping inside out of the cold.

"Hmmmm…."

Long Feng smiled genteelly and rubbed at one half of his serpentine mustache as Jet returned to work. Noting one last time the tousled-haired man's affect on the young women who worked in the nearby office building (and who went out of their way to 'bump into him' at the daily coffee-truck), his eyes narrowed faintly and his trench coat swished in the snow to his car, his fingertips still thoughtfully caressing his facial hair.

_xXx_

It had not been a good day for Toph.

Katara had acted creeped out and secretive when they'd finally met – and had forced her to shut down her show pronto; her head maid had called in sick; and now her favourite assistant was not giving her good news. It was enough to make a girl want to kick someone.

Preferably Zuko Sozin.

"What do you mean, 'there's nothing on him?' I told you, he's working at BSSU. He's in the same office as Katara Kuruk." Another piece of her clothing went flying as she gestured angrily, the speakerphone catching the sound as the shirt's buttons clicked upon contact with the wall. "He has to have a resume on file with their HR department; a parking slip with his car's make and model and license plate; for gosh sakes', he has a giant scar on half his face according to Her Royal Sweetness – the guy is the anti-definition of 'inconspicuous'. "

"I'm very, very sorry Miss Bei Fong," the troubled voice replied, "we did finds leads but they were all false, but we're still trying."

"He had to come from somewhere," interrupted Toph with a grunt. "There's no such thing as ghosts."

"Of course not. We'll call you again with an update."

"You have 5 hours."

An uncomfortable silence was broken by a half-hearted sigh. "… Yes, ma'am…" He was used to his superior's bulldogged tenacity.

With that, Toph jabbed the phone button off and went to find something to wear that wasn't fuzzy pajamas with guacamole stains.

_xXx_

_  
Later that day…_

Katara put her coat away in Jet's closet and looked around his apartment.

She hadn't originally planned on just walking in, but when her hands had closed over the little key he'd given her before, she'd decided waiting inside would probably be more comfortable than waiting outside… particularly considering some of the other tenants in the building.

_And he did say I could trust him,_ she reminded herself eagerly when an overweight, boxer-built man wearing a wife beater and a stained pair of jogging pants passed her deliberately too closely for the third time in the hallway. The door clicked shut behind her, closing off the noise from the other apartments…. Mostly.

She shut the deadbolt, just to keep every little bit of unwanted sound very securely out.

Dust motes floated through the late-afternoon light in the apartment; as she glanced around the slightly dingy apartment with a relieved breath, Katara felt her anxiety lessen as she took in the dusty shelves and battered TV, the piles of odds and ends scattered about. Without planning to, she found herself randomly picking up his clothes, magazines, and video games and putting them away; she washed his dishes and cleared the counters; she even dared to tidy the beat-up bookcase that doubled as his nightstand, until she found herself rolling her eyes so often it started to hurt.

_Men_, with an internal groan, she dropped the 'reading' material with a flutter of glossy pages and returned to her bag of books in the living room.

"Five forty five," she read aloud on the VCR clock from the couch. Jet would still be another half hour, making up the day he'd missed when he was 'sick'.

"Might as well work," one book piled on top of another as Katara spread her readings out on the freshly-wiped coffee table.

She was soon engrossed in her assignment on porphyria, and lost track of time as the words flew through her head onto her laptop. It was the final copy, and she wanted to touch it up and make it perfect.

_Environmental changes... physical morphology... heme distortion... iron deficiency... sensitivity to light... mercury poisoning... village decimated... reservation transplanted... remains recovered..._

It went on, until she read that last line. Something niggled at the back of her mind.

_I wonder what happened to the remains? _She thought to herself at one point. _Were they put to rest? Or were they considered Spirits by then and left alone?... _

The notion that testing the remains would be one way of determining the cause of death and adding more credibility to her paper flitted through her mind, and brought her upright immediately. She ignored the morbidity and, admittedly, even the spiritual desecration it would involve.

_Wait a second..._

A ghost of an idea hinted around her head and Katara racked her brain to catch it. There was something about the legend that she was forgetting, something important. And it had to do with the two main characters, Yue and her Protector, and the way they were laid to rest.

Up until that point, Katara had been working the legend-story aspect from what she remembered of her Tribe's oral storytelling traditions. Now, though, she raced through her bibliography and then her bag, searching for the tome she'd taken out of her bookcase weeks earlier to prove to Professor Bumi that the legend was 'true' and that she hadn't been making it up. (Though he had told her at the time she could go through with it anyway as long as she made it entertaining...)

_How were they laid to rest?... _She had to find out. _And why did the Visitor choose their village in the first place?..._

The story within the book was definitely more detailed, but also more cryptic.

"Argh, stupid symbolism," she muttered, going back and forth between two pages and trying to figure out the meaning of an ambiguous paragraph, to no avail. There was something important about the story that she was missing – and now, when she was just finishing up her assignment and putting the finishing touches on the final draft, she was discovering she didn't know how it ended.

Slamming it shut with a satisfying snap, Katara glared at the cover a moment and wondered how on earth she'd find her answers. Her Tribe's legends were hardly documented at all, and her book had been a gift from her grandmother just before she left. It was almost as old as her Gran-gran, as she'd had it since she was a young woman.

'Master H. Pakku, Ph.D.' she read along the spine. The only person she'd ever heard of documenting their own Tribe's legends was this Dr. Pakku, and he was known to be an elitist, sexist recluse.

_However, he may be the only person left who'd know the original stories, _she admitted to herself grudgingly. _Gran-gran's having more and more trouble remembering things these days..._

From across the room, Jet watched the play of emotions across Katara's face, and decided it was best to leave her be when she got that fierce look of determination in her beautiful eyes. He leaned back and watched her fingers fly nimbly over the keys, and continued to sip his coffee contentedly. The tired young man had been home for twenty minutes already and hadn't had the heart to disturb her.

About half an hour later, he stretched and went to the kitchen to start making them some supper, since Katara wasn't making any move to release her deathgrip on the keyboard in the near future.

_She looks pretty intense, _he pulled a bag of spaghetti from the cupboard. A pot from the next shelf followed.

_If she keeps working away like that, she'll be here all night, _Jet realised, his brows furrowing. He went about making the simple meal, considering their options from all the angles that suited him. It all boiled down to what he wanted for the time being that night.

He decided to not disturb her.

* * *

**TBC.**

**AN: This chapter first posted Sunday, March 30th, 2008.  
****AN: Thank you very much for reading! **

**AN: FYI (and I apologise in advance for this), I leave to go abroad this coming week. I can't guarantee I'll have an update again until May. Sorry!**

AN: If you haven't already seen it, taffy0823's 'thank you' fic is now posted! It is called "L'Illusion Comique" and is based on taffy's request/prompt: What do I think could happen during the upcoming episode, "Ember Island Players". Well, I don't know if this is exactly what will happen, but I thought this'd be a fun way for it to play out. (It is posted separately from "Merits" so this way it doesn't confuse the plot in this story.) I hope you enjoy it!


	17. Chapter 17

**Author: moor on / beyondthemoor on LJ  
Title: Merits  
Part : Sixteen  
Genre: Romance/humour/vamp/Modern AU  
Fandom: Avatar: TLA  
Pairing: Zutara, Jetara  
Length: 1300 words, approx.  
Rating: M  
Disclaimer : "Avatar: The Last Airbender" and all related rights belong to their original creators… I am not among their ranks.  
AN: In response to hyperroo' s vampire/Zutara challenge, I present…  
**

* * *

"**Merits" – Part Sixteen**

"You looked pretty intense, you know, when you were studying," Jet murmured as he slipped an arm around Katara's waist. It was very late, and he'd finally persuaded her to go to bed so she could get at least five or six hours of sleep. She was staying over, as he'd expected.

"Really?... Sorry... I guess I got... kind of into it..." Pulling the covers up closer to her chin, Katara yawned and snuggled closer to her warm boyfriend in his bed.

"Something up?"

Katara shook her head no – though it was really more of a side nudge into the pillow. She was exhausted from overwork and anxiety. "Just... stuff..."

"Mm? What stuff?" he hedged, and smiled into her hair. He nuzzled her ear, bringing a smile to her face.

"Mm-mmm," she refused, and pushed away a bit. "Too tired..." Even the slightly lumpy bed was a welcome comfort to her that night. Tendrils of sleep curled around her mind and beckoned her consciousness to leave her be.

"Is it Zuko?" Jet meant it as a joke, after all Katara's complaining about her new roommate, and expected her to shoot some sarcastic comment back at him about his boss. Her reaction, however, stunned him for a moment.

"Hm?"

The bushy-haired young man felt her tense slightly, then relax again beside him.

Suspicions prowled the perimeter of his mind.

"It's Zuko, isn't it. He's done something. What did he do?" Blankets shifted as Jet sat up a bit straighter and looked down over Katara's shoulder past her waves of chocolate hair spread over her pillow.

Sighing, Katara pretended to be asleep. She really didn't want to think about Zuko. She also didn't want another fight with Jet. _One night without drama or nightmares. Come on, brain, just one night, you can do it..._

"Katara," Jet said seriously, and his grip tightened around her middle. "What happened? Did he do something to you?"  
_Why is it that when I want him to leave me alone, he doesn't get the message? s_he thought peevishly about her boyfriend.

"Katara, stop pretending to be asleep. I'm serious, what happened? What did he do? I swear, if he laid a hand on you, I'm going to--."  
"He didn't do anything to me," _honesty _is_ the best policy, _she reminded herself grumpily, and rolled towards him a bit to indicate she was paying attention. She avoided his eyes even in the darkened room nonetheless.

Each word was measured and weighed as he heard it, and he couldn't help calculating their meanings.

"But he did something?" he pushed, and instead of holding her tummy now, his hand had flattened against the bed, effectively holding her in place. Preventing her from avoiding him. Strong, tanned arms in spite of the winter weather faced her, and she couldn't help but notice how well-formed they were. Heat welled off him, warming her and reminding her she'd much rather be cuddling than arguing. Conceding for the night, she gave a sigh and turned away again, embarrassed.

"Look, it was just... awkward. There was no harm done."

"What was it?"  
Katara tried to turn further away, but found his strong arm blocked her escape route.

"Jet, I need to get to sleep. I have work tomorrow, and class, and meetings..."

"Why won't you talk to me! Don't you trust me?"

"Jet!" Turning as much as she could to look at his angry face, Katara's eyes were wide with surprise, and just as hurt as his.

"I trust you. I know you worked hard to get over your past," she forced herself to calm down, and focused on his shadowed face. His oversize t-shirt that she wore clung to her as it twisted with the sheets caught at her waist in her effort to bend around to meet his gaze. "I know how much of a burden I am on Toph right now calling all the time, with everything from my past coming back on me –everywhere! -- and I don't want to put any strain on _our_ relationship, ok? Especially due to something like work or school. That's stupid. I know how focused I get – I'm sorry, I don't mean to ignore you. When I have my school & work life cross into my personal life..." A flash of the intimate parking lot scene passed through her mind : the easy co-ed, the sleazy co-worker. Katara's eyes closed briefly to erase the memory.

"I just... I'm sorry, Jet. I'm not trying to keep something from you. I'm not keeping secrets – I just don't want to have that much crossover right now. I want... I want things to be uncomplicated." _The way they were before Aang came back; before Zuko Sozin showed up..._

He didn't reply, testing her to see if she had anything else she wanted to ask. Sick of the cross-examination, she grunted with frustration after another moment of his silence, and promptly flopped down onto her back on the bed.

"I don't want to fight," she said quietly.

To her surprise... she heard his lips part and release a rueful sigh of their own. "Well... we're still agreeing there," he admitted.

"Look, what happened..." _Just get it over with..._ She took a deep breath and frowned in the darkness.

"I caught Zuko fooling around with some skanky co-ed in his car at the Bomber. It was just... He's gotta be 10 years older than she was! And it was so cheap! In his goddamn car in the middle of a parking lot! Ew! What are they, horny teenagers?"

She finished with a disgusted noise and gestured uselessly with her hands. "Ugh!"

Pushing her hair from her face, her palm came back down her forehead and rested over her eyes. "This is what was bugging me. As you can see, it was _life-altering_."

Jet took it all in with respectful patience. He considered her words very careful, took in her upset state, and went over thoroughly what she'd confessed to witnessing.

...Then he burst out laughing.

"What? What are you laughing about? This was horrifying for me! Don't you dare laugh!" she screeched, sitting upright and facing him angrily. "Hey! This was the most disgusting behaviour I've ever seen a grown man engage in, and I hope I never see it again! They should have at least gotten a private room!"

Jet collapsed on top of his girlfriend, laughing himself hoarse. Katara continued ranting, regardless, and just went about trying to shake some sense into him. Or move him off her, he wasn't sure.

"Would you quit laughing, I'm seriously pissed about this!"

Still trying to catch his break, Jet wiped the tears from his eyes. He'd have to meet up with this Zuko Sozin and congratulate him sometime...

* * *

_**Elsewhere...**_

She knows.

The thought broke through Zuko's morning meditation as he sat in front of the extinguished fire, the goals smouldering and flaring in time with his breathing.

_How much does she know?_

His eyes clenched closed and his fists tightened in his lap. He didn't know.

_How much did she see? Did she see me take the girl? Or just see the girl leave? _

The satisfaction of the easy meal in the front seat of his car had vanished the moment his eyes had made contact with her blue ones.

While finding meals was much easier in warmer climates due to the more active nightlife and throngs of constant tourists, Zuko had found the southern borders too populated with vampires for decades. He'd deliberately chosen a wintry territory in which to hunt, the poor weather preventing – for the most part – his interruption and discovery by passers-by, usually.

And here he'd thought his luck would hold out while he seduced Katara Kuruk.

_I need to find out exactly what she knows, _he realised coldly. He opened his eyes and stared at the ashes as the last ember went out and he made up his mind. Dawn couldn't come soon enough.

_I need to know now.  
_

* * *

**_TBC..._**

AN: Congratulations, **Zutara-vampirepirate**, you're reviewer 100! Drop me a PM or e-mail with what you'd like in your thank-you fic! (I hope the rest of you enjoyed "L'Illusion Comique" -- kudos if you are familiar with the original!)  
AN: Ok, I'm sure I said 'no more updates until May' before. BUT since a few of you didn't like the scene I left off on in my last update, here's one more update before I flee the country. Seriously, no more updates now until May. **Zuko's moving in for the...** _(you can fill in the blank here...) ;)  
_AN: Happy April 2008, see you (hopefully) once the new episodes have started! The action's starting now in this fic – thanks for sticking with me until now, I promise we'll go further, faster, harder from now on. This IS a Zutara, after all.

_Things are gonna get hot._

**_-moor  
02APR2008_**


	18. Chapter 18

**Author: moor on / beyondthemoor on LJ  
Title: Merits  
Part : Seventeen  
Genre: Romance/humour/vamp/Modern AU  
Fandom: Avatar: TLA  
Pairing: Zutara, Jetara  
Length: 2000 words, approx.  
Rating: M  
Disclaimer : "Avatar: The Last Airbender" and all related rights belong to their original creators… I am not among their ranks.  
AN: In response to hyperroo' s vampire/Zutara challenge, I present…**

* * *

"**Merits" – Part Seventeen**

Noonhour in her office – the curtains pulled closed, as usual.

The rain beat hard against the window pane of her office, but not as hard as Katara's heart within her chest.

"Not here," she breathed hoarsely as the dark, wild-haired man shoved her against the wall, his mouth warm and possessive on her throat, and his hands rubbing her skin sensually; one at the small of her back holding her to him as he ground closer, the other moving slowly down her thigh. "Not now."

Her fingers dug so deeply in the material of his shirt the fine cloth would need an hour of mending and ironing to return it to its prior shape. Not that she'd noticed.

Her companion was more intent on nibbling open the top button of her blouse.

"Yes," he growled, and nipped her gently, causing her to suck in her breath sharply and then stifle a groan of pleasure. The paneling behind her was rough, and so was he, but neither he nor she cared at that moment. She knew she was denying him; out of impropriety, out of self-preservation, but mostly out of fear of the unknown. _What would happen after?_ _Would this change things?_ She pushed at his chest, a mouse pushing against a brick wall. They were in her office – _what if someone walks in on us, Jet?_

"Please," she gasped desperately, as his hand moved from her back to her hip and tugged at the hem of her shirt, teasing it from her skirt. His other hand grabbed her leg and wrapped it around him, and he pinned her to the wall.

In her core she felt a strong pull, drawing them closer, whispering at her to give in to the feelings, all good, and enjoy them.

As his hand brushed delicate lace, she finally accepted the rush of warmth and promise. _What had she been thinking before? Something about fearing... something... something... ohmygoodness, _that_ felt really good. _She nearly winced with desire at the way he'd touched her; her legs trembled and threatened to give way.

He drew another gasp from her and she realised her underwear had gone MIA. _Oh, enough is enough. _

She freed her arms and started undressing him feverishly in return, embracing and ravaging him madly with her mouth over his newly revealed torso. _Screw the Peeping Toms_, screamed her hormones, _we want this right now!_

"At least close the door," the first wave of a mounting pressure building within her spurred her on; up hopped her other leg and wrapped around his waist, and they were joined.

Chuckling under his breath, he smiled into her neck and acquiesced.

"You're mine, Katara."

Katara's eyes closed in response to the husky voice and she felt herself nod into his chest even while he shoved all the papers off Zuko's desk and lay her across it.

The door to her office clicked shut softly, and Katara glanced at her boyfriend's face in the half-light.

And saw Zuko Sozin's golden eyes smirking confidently down at her through her haze.

* * *

"I'm not sure I heard you right," Katara said evenly Monday morning as her office-mate undressed-- er, _addressed_ her from in front of his desk, his laptop bag slung over his shoulder.

Her eyes were red-rimmed and she had sea-worthy trunks, not simple bags, under her eyes. The dream she'd had at Jet's apartment – in his bed -- had not left her yet, and she'd kept a wary eye on her office-mate since she'd arrived that morning as if somehow he may try and seduce her at any moment. Not that she wanted to see if he was as good as her dream, at all, even a little bit – and not that he could have _made_ her dream something so risque, she knew that was impossible – but damned if she trusted him an ounce, either.

Speaking of Jet, he had not exactly been thrilled at her moaning in her sleep, either-- after she'd screamed Zuko's name, in rapture, at the top of her lungs. Repeatedly.

He'd been even less impressed when she'd woken herself up with horrified screams as her subconscious realised on a conscious level what it had done and whom she'd done it with. Katara and sleep did not mix anymore, it seemed.

Mending her relationship with her boyfriend would come later that evening, though; for now, Katara had to contend with the sex-demon – er, _colleague_, in front of her. _And the first rule is you both have to keep your clothes _on_ in the office_, teased her subconscious. Katara-the-Professional slammed the door on her subconscious self's smirking, and turned her attention back to Zuko.

"I said I want to watch you. I'm coming to observe you & your classes."

"Why?" Even now her brain was stuttering, trying to keep the fantasy-dream safely distanced from her real-time, pain-in-the-ass co-worker's words. He wasn't making it easy. Worse, his decision to wear more casual clothes and sport a more trendy hairstyle had kept her attention and distracted her at the same time. No wonder her students kept coming to ask for 'extra help' these days, her office hours were being booked solid with his admirers. Male and female.

"I'm here to review the entire department -- you're part of the department."

"Right this way," she ground out through her teeth, and led him unceremoniously to her morning lab. "Debauched slug," she muttered under her breath. Unfortunately, she wished she was talking about him.

Noting her slightly haggard state, Zuko hid a smirk of his own and followed close behind.

* * *

The handsome man shadowed her every move for the rest of the week. It became a kind of mental torment for Katara, to see his level stare every time she looked up, every time she sat down, every time she turned to answer a question. While irrational, it also felt like he was trying to gather more than just information about the classes and labs she taught. _When he finds my breaking point, do I get a medal for winning this endurance race? Or can I just throw his laptop out the window and say, "Go fetch, good boy!" ?_

And the questions Zuko asked her about the class, afterwards seemed ... ambiguous. Sometimes Katara couldn't discern whether he was asking her the question about herself personally, or whether it was about her teaching methods and how she ran her classroom.

Things with Jet were smoothed over, mostly by Tuesday after some ego-heavy-petting, but it had left Katara exhausted to deal with two attention-starved alpha males. _I need to find someone balanced to talk to again_, she thought to herself as she walked back to her office. _Please let Toph or Sokka be free sometime this week..._

That first nightmare had set a decidedly bad precedent for sleeping with her boyfriend.

_"Jet, believe me, I didn't want to have that dream! It was a nightmare!" she'd pleaded to his cold shoulder._

(She'd realised too late a better reply may have been, "Come help me forget all about it, big man," with bedroom eyes and an indecent negligee. _Lesson learned & filed for later.._.)

Zuko had just asked another borderline innappropriate question, and again she had to wonder at whether he was being deliberately misleading. In and of itself, the question was harmless; but something about the way he'd asked it had made her second-guess her answer... Furthermore, every moment she was with him, she couldn't help remembering what he'd done, what _they'd_ done, in her dream the night before. A therapist would have a field day and a lifetime income guaranteed after her crazy dreams that week.

"Did you understand what happened?" Zuko observed her, a thoughtful look on his face.

_What are you getting at,_ she wondered suspiciously. "Yes, I understood the student's question, and we talked through the situation so I could find out exactly where she needed help," she'd replied slowly trying not to glare at him. Her jaw clicked from clenching her teeth.

"Do you find you have what you need?" he'd asked.

"Are you satisfied?"

"Is there anything else you _want_?"

"Everything I need to teach?..." she'd chosen to expand on his first question, and measured the look in his eyes; he was definitely reading her. "Yes, though it would help if I had two projectors, one for my laptop and one for examples -- that way I wouldn't have to switch screens all the time..."

Morning, afternoon, evening he remained at her side. He even started joining her on her coffee breaks, though he never bought anything.

The sudden change in his attention and focus on her was enough to drive her crazy -- after him ignoring her for 3 weeks, and suddenly sticking to her like glue, she just couldn't figure him out. The shift in him also made her angry and frustrated that she couldn't tell him off, exactly, either, since he really was simply doing his job. After analysing his questions and actions, she'd (maddenningly) found reasonable excuses for each and every one. Plenty of unreasonable ones, too, but the devil's advocate was never completely absent from court.

Unconsciously, Zuko had become a demon to Katara and to top it off the dreams had only gotten worse. And by worse, she meant the deepest, most satisfying... 'sleep' of her life, followed by waking to her own horrified screams. Staying with Jet overnight had been suspended since the first incident, for obvious reasons: most notably the preservation of their still somewhat strained relationship in the face of her impending institutionalization... and really fantastic, mind-blowing sex dreams he wasn't a part of.

Never had Katara felt so ambushed both internally and externally; she couldn't shake the feeling Zuko was trying to corner her, from within her mind and from the outside through their interactions at work. He wanted something other than data for his analysis -- he was after something specific from her.

"But what does the jerk want?" she'd wailed aloud in frustration in her apartment one night, ready to tear her hair out.Try as she might, Katara couldn't nail down what that 'something' was. (She also couldn't nail down what the Visitor had wanted from Yue in the legend, either; it was definitely a week defined by elusive answers.) Her students' lab work had borne the brunt of her irritation that night; to the point where she had to bell curve them as penance to make herself (and them) feel better the next day.

Friday afternoon Katara feigned a headache and left her desk (and office-mate-remora) for a bit just to get a break from the constant barrage of questions, leaving Zuko on his own before he could get a word in edgewise. As she escaped, she closed the door shut quickly behind her to prevent him from following, then hid in the ladies room for a good fifteen minutes. Not her most dignified exit, but she'd take it over incarceration for beating the man to death with a red Swingline stapler.

Her retreat ended up working in Zuko's favour.

* * *

Zuko looked up from his desk at the polite tap on the door.

"Hmm?"

"Hey, are you Zuko Sozin?" asked the outgoing man from the doorway. His usual toothpick hung from his mouth carelessly, though its owner had complete control over it at all times.

The vampire glanced casually at the newcomer, and replied "yes" after a quick appraisal.

Jet took a step into the room, and extended his hand. "Hi, I'm Jet, Katara's boyfriend. I've heard a lot about you, Zuko."

The hunter kept his composure, but felt himself tighen minutely. The man across from him didn't convey a threatening demeanour, but that didn't mean he wasn't looking for trouble. Zuko took the proferred hand and gave it a solid shake, impressed with Jet's directness and strength of will; he exuded confidence and assertiveness.

"You shouldn't believe everything you hear."

* * *

When Katara returned to her office (after her 8th coffee in half as many hours -- no wonder she was well and truly getting a headache; she could probably blood-dope a horse into winning the Preakness Stakes if she were to tap into her java-bombed veins that afternoon) on the tail of a lecture towards the end of the day... she heard male laughter and the sounds of camaraderie floating from the opened doorway.

Familiar male laughter.

Ocean blue depths narrowed to slits as her mouth thinned to a line and she walked through her door.

"Hey Katara!" greeted Jet with a wide smile. He was sitting in her chair, pulled up to Zuko's desk, leaning back and relaxing while Zuko looked... relaxed, too, actually. Curiouser and curiouser. "Good news. Zuko's going to join us tonight at the 'Bomber. Hey, where are you going? Katara?" he asked as she whirled and retreated speedily.

"Coffee." _Fine, two horses, and they could have a tie_. And damnit, would her hands please stop shaking? Anytime now would be great.

"Stupid hands," she muttered to herself. "I leave for 20 minutes to have some 'me-time', and what do I get when I return? MORE egotistical jerks infesting my office. Stupid, stupid, stupid..."

Nothing would make her happier than to yell at the pair of them to clear out of her workspace, but Katara-the-Professional had a reputation to up-keep. Even if she was going to end up looking like a strung-out junkie by Bomber time that night due to a severe caffeine overdose. It was better than going postal on her coworker and boyfriend. Somehow. Had to be better than re-enacting that scene from "Office Space" that ended in fiery burnination at any rate.

Without meaning to Katara felt a giggle escape her lips. _And here she'd already been thinking of beating the living daylights ouf of Zuko that week, with a red Swingline..._

But she was still really angry with them. Just for being there in her office.

The door clicked shut with restrained fury (and giggles) as she left while both men stared after her.

* * *

"Hey, Katara?"

While Jet stared pensively at the wood panelling Katara had just closed with brusque finality, Zuko smirked internally to himself.

He was under her skin, and had practically felt her seethe when she'd returned from her 'headache'. Jet's appearance had also proved beneficial, as Jet had confided that Katara merely thought him a pervert and lecher, not a proper threat. Katara's body-language had established that as fact early in the week, but Jet's off-hand comment had sealed the deal.

_Not that I shouldn't do something to correct at least part of Katara's assessment of me,_ he remarked a bit belatedly, and realised he'd been so cheered by the fact she hadn't picked up on his being a vampire that he'd neglected to acknowledge that the reason was because she was blinded by his lack of morality.

Turning his attention back to his 'visitor', the young-looking man wondered vaguely if Jet admired him for the same reason Katara initially despised him. There was also the matter of whether or not the mussy-haired blue-collar was aware of his trespass into his beloved's dreams recently at night... There was something in Jet's eyes that confirmed to Zuko he should watch his step around the man across from him when it came to Katara.

Well, the more to discover that night.

* * *

**TBC.**

AN: Thank you for reading through such a wordy chapter! (I hope it sort of met expectations after such a long delay...)  
AN: This brings us to the end of the first month, according to the story/timeline.  
AN: If you catch any typos, errors, grammatical mistakes, characterization screw-ups, please let me know! (I've re-written this chapter so many times I can't see it anymore.)  
AN: Will try and update again soon. ;

/moor, 21May2008


	19. Chapter 19

**Author: moor on / beyondthemoor on LJ  
Title: Merits  
Part : Eighteen  
Genre: Romance/humour/vamp/Modern AU  
Fandom: Avatar: TLA  
Pairing: Zutara, Jetara  
Length: 2000 words, approx.  
Rating: M  
Disclaimer : "Avatar: The Last Airbender" and all related rights belong to their original creators… I am not among their ranks.  
AN: In response to hyperroo' s vampire/Zutara challenge, I present…**

**

* * *

**

"Merits" – Part Eighteen

Ambient lights pierced the Bomb Shelter's dim interior that Friday night as Zuko, Jet, and Katara wove their way through the excitable crowd to Toph's dais.

"I never knew Toph was the Blind Bandit," shouted Jet to Zuko, following behind him. "We just met a little while ago. She and Katara have been friends for a long time."

"How long?" asked Zuko, his hair slightly mussed in the current trendy style. His black shirt was untucked from his casual slacks and, despite his scar, he was attracting a fair amount of positive female attention.

Grinning a bit in recognition – or sly encouragement, Zuko wasn't sure – Jet's eyes went a bit distant as he considered Zuko's question.

"I d'know. A while. It sounds like they've been friends since Katara started med school anyway."

Ahead of them, the woman in question had already left the crowds behind and started walking up the stairs to greet those who'd already arrived. Zuko could just make out more chairs and even a few benches and small tables up on the platform – Katara must've mentioned she was bringing company this time.

"C'mon," Jet led Zuko up to the stage, noting a bevy of appreciative, inviting glances from the women they passed as they made their way. "Man, you must have something they want," he said. Zuko barely glanced at the women, and continued ignoring them while in Jet's presence.

"Zuko Sozin, this is my brother Sokka. Sokka, this is Zuko. Toph you already know Zuko. Zuko, yadda yadda yadda…"

Katara's introduction held all the warmth of arctic tundra in midwinter, and she sat down in the seat closest to her brother before the men finished shaking hands. The padded cushions were comfortable and swallowed her whole, leaving no room for either of her companions to join her. She didn't want anything to do with Zuko, and she hadn't forgiven Jet for inviting him yet, either.

For their part, the men gave each other a round of "Heys" and casual glances before returning to their previous conversations.

"—we did get the CD changer installed on the VW this week, so yeah, his car's running almost as good as yours," assured Sokka as he stood beside Toph at her tables. Occasionally he helped her fix them – but he was never allowed to touch them when she was 'working.'

"I've told you, I don't ride in German cars that aren't BMWs or Benz," said the young woman.

Her haughtiness made Sokka smile, but he covered by feigning hurt. "You mean you don't want to ride in the beamer I just fixed up for you? I named it after you, though – Schnookum Pookie Sweet-wheels – ow…"

Without missing a beat, one hand followed through and returned to the dials on the table, while her other reached for one of her laptops. "Oh, did I hit you? Sorry Schnookums…"

Deep in her seat, Katara ignored both her brother and her friend. Such obvious shared affection made her uncomfortable in the intimate gathering of friends on Toph's stage. This discomfort was compounded by the easy friendship growing between her boyfriend and colleague. So she ignored them, too. Which effectively left her alone.

Her features darkened as she fiddled with her coat a moment. _What is this, 'Everyone blow off Katara night'? _

On one side, her brother and her best friend bantered easily in their usual way, backlit by the artificial lights that blinked and flashed and glowed on the rear edge of the stage. On her other side, Jet was talking casually to Zuko and Zuko was … He was watching her every few seconds.

Katara felt her shoulders stiffen. Was she just imagining it? Was it a trick of the deceptive lighting, a misleading shadow that made it look like he was watching her from under his dark-lashed, whiskey-coloured eyes? Wasn't it?

_Creep_, she turned away.

To break the hold, she pretended to do a sweep of the room but found her eyes drawn back to his again. No, it hadn't been an illusion; they were caught in each other's gaze once more. He was pulling her focus back to him somehow. A few moments went by and their eyes were still locked on one another. The music became fainter, the lights stopped whirling and became a constant glow, and she hardly felt the vibrations through the floor anymore at all. The man across from her was trying to tell her something, but his mouth wasn't moving. Everything was fuzzing out as she tried to focus.

"Something wrong, Katara?" Jet's voice broke through the tractor-beam connecting Katara to her enemy, and she saw her boyfriend shift, the buttons and zips on his cargo pants catching the light sharply. The metallic glints distracted her enough to glance over at him and fumble for an excuse.

"Just wondering if you wanted something to drink. I'm going to head down to the bar."

"I can get it for you, or go with you –" he started, and moved to get up. Edgy and itching to get away, she interrupted him, hopping to her feet and already grabbing her purse.

"Never mind. I'll just go."

She could feel gold eyes burning into her back as she descended the stairs again.

Toph and Sokka were still at the turn-tables and didn't hear her leave.

* * *

"Tequila sunrise."

The heavily made-up brunette behind the bar caught Katara's eye and gave a brief nod, reaching for the grenadine.

_Why did Jet have to invite him?_ Her temper simmered angrily as she leaned against the bar and stared at her reflection in the ring-stained countertop. He just couldn't leave well enough alone and had to bring him along. _What, are they buddies now? Are we doing threesome dates? Like I need to see that face outside of work, too…_

Katara felt her shoulders tighten again in irritation and forced herself to take a calming breath. Not that her boyfriend wasn't allowed to make new friends, but why did it have to be Zuko? The guy was a jerk to her and practically stalked her these days, and it was obviously taking a toll on her mentally if the stress was coming out in those nightmares every single time her head hit a pillow.(_Are they really nightmares_, taunted a part of her brain. _Yes_, she countered. _And I'm cold at night because of them, so there_.)

There was always the option of trying to be nice to Zuko again, she reasoned with herself. It would make the evening less awkward. Chewing glass would be just as pleasant and would probably leave fewer scars, her inner-bitch retorted.

The bartender topped up the chimney glass's contents and slid it across to Katara, accepting the cash the troubled woman passed back.

"Thanks."

"No problem." The bartender paused a second, as if about to ask a question, but another customer flashed some money. "Take care," she said sincerely, and surprised Katara when she caught her glance with her own midnight blue eyes before leaving to attend the newcomer.

The floors thrummed with the crowd's dancing energy, and Katara's chin rose while she scanned the sea of faces to see if any of her students had come out that night. Not that she was keeping an eye on them, really, she just made sure they were doing well, taking care of themselves, and not overdosing on controlled substances they weren't supposed to be touching anyway (outside of class)…

Nearly an hour had passed since she'd left the raised stage from where Toph directed the pounding herds. The music had turned much harder that night, much faster, and the Bomber's customers seemed to be feeding off it in frenzy. Movements were wilder, noise was louder, and even the shadows cast by the sporadic spotlights seemed to grow longer and sharper in the club. Between the atmosphere, her lack of sleep, and her previous head injuries, Katara felt weariness weigh her down. Careless patrons bumped into her repeatedly, the last one pushing right into a support beam where her drink sloshed down her front.

"Mph," she mumbled, a hand at her forehead where the pounding was internal. It had been stupid to come out that night. Even if her work load was under control, she needed her sleep, and she wasn't going to get it while Toph was working out some kind of fight with Sokka through interpretive mixing. She doubted her tequila sunrise had helped her either – dehydration, no doubt. What had driven her to be so stubborn? Proving she could handle Zuko? Proving she could ignore Jet? _Big whoop_, she thought, as she rubbed her eyes. She was battling exhaustion, and exhaustion was winning.

Ditching her drink she arrived back at the stage, climbed the stairs, and realized Toph was there on her own.

"The others went to look for you a little while ago, Katara – where were you?"

"Sorry Toph, I think I'm gonna walk home. I'm just not –"

"Not in any condition to be here?" Toph's tone softened when she sensed Katara's state.

"Could you tell them I'm taking off? I'm too tired to go looking for them…"

"I'll let them know. Did you want to send Jet a text message or something? He's your boyfriend," hedged the younger woman, still intent over her laptops but sending out feelers to gauge Katara's reaction. "He'll be worried. He was the first to notice you didn't come back right away."

"Once I'm outside, sure. Thanks."

"Take care, Katara," said Toph, noticing her friend leave with shuffling footsteps.

She took out her phone immediately to try and reach Sokka, to no avail.

* * *

The night had turned cold, overcast, but not wet for once.

Zuko set off in the direction he knew Katara had taken, and noticed easily after a short distance that she was being followed. He couldn't see her, but he could sense her chaotic state and characteristic perfume as he walked as briskly as he could without drawing attention to himself. He didn't know where Jet had gone, or when exactly they'd split and lost contact with each other, but it had been a bad scene when he'd arrived upon Sokka and Toph's argument and seen the Water Tribe man backhanded by the petite woman. He didn't stay to get the details.

Outside on a noisy sidestreet, the figure ahead of Zuko kept his distance expertly from his prey and used his surroundings to hide his presence the few times Katara had glanced up. He stayed in the shadows, too, preventing Zuko from getting a good look at him and earning the vampire's grudging respect as a tail.

They'd been stalking Katara nearly forty-five minutes when Zuko finally caught sight of her sitting on a bus stop bench, her breath coming out in faint, slow puffs in the night air. Under her rumpled jacket her shoulders were slumped. She must have stopped to rest and fallen asleep, he realised. _Or…_

The stalker watched from behind the stairway leading up to a townhouse a half-block away. Zuko, twice that distance from the man ahead of him, kept one eye on him and the other on Katara. There were more streetlights here, and the vampire hastened to memorize every detail he could glean from the person in front of him. Long, dark coat over a tall, lean frame; slicked-back dark hair; and just as he turned to walk in the open, a long, trailing mustache from each side of his face.

Zuko's knuckles went white as his hands clenched in fists at his side, angry at himself for not realizing who it was sooner by the snake-like movements.

The stalker was Long Feng.

* * *

A blaring, beeping noise roused Katara.

"Hmmm?" she murmured and glanced around. She noticed immediately her face, hands, and feet were very cold and sore; next, she realized that it was because she was still sitting on the outdoor bench, several blocks from her apartment. A light snow had started falling, blurring her visibility.

The wind picked up a bit, bringing with it the sound of footsteps crunching on the freshly fallen snow. From her lap, her phone continued sounding its alarm.

Moving stiffly, she opened her purse and removed her phone, groggily wondering what had made her so tired she'd passed out on the ugly bench when she could have been home asleep under her covers.

She sat up, flipped open the phone and nearly dropped it the moment she heard the voice yelling at her.

"Katara, RUN!"

"_Zuko?_"

"There's a man walking towards you – run away from him, Katara. NOW! _DO IT!"_

The steps came closer.

Katara's heartbeat came harder, faster, and picked up speed with each thud in her chest. She heard Zuko panting now through the phone and distantly recognized the sounds of pounding feet in the distance, from the direction she'd come from – but they were in the far distance, and the slow, measured footsteps of the man she didn't know were much clearer, much more distinct; they were much, much closer.

Zuko's voice broke through her scared haze. It was commanding and determined, but desperate.

"I'm coming, Katara, but you need to start running! He knows who you are, damnit, RUN!"

Going on instinct alone, Katara broke out in a dead run, still clutching her open cellphone in her frostbitten hand. Snow fell around her and the cold air burned her throat and lungs as she raced down the street towards her apartment building.

Behind her she heard the slow, measured footsteps stop. Unfortunately, she then heard them pick up and chase.

* * *

**TBC.**

AN: Please give renagrrl a big round of applause for her fantastic beta'ing of this chapter! (Thank you, Rena! I owe you one!)  
AN: Also, related to this fic – the thank-you fic for Habit (who wrote the 125th review!) will be posted shortly. I do hope some of you enjoy Avatar-verse Zutara lemons…  
AN: Thank you for reading – as always, love, adoration, and crit are welcome additions to the Review pile…

**/moor, 14 June 2008**


	20. Chapter 20

**Author: moor / beyondthemoor on LJ  
Title: Merits  
Part : Nineteen  
Genre: Romance/humour/vamp/Modern AU  
Fandom: Avatar: TLA  
Pairing: Zutara, Jetara  
Length: 600 words, approx.  
Rating: M  
Disclaimer : "Avatar: The Last Airbender" and all related rights belong to their original creators… I am not among their ranks.  
AN: In response to hyperroo' s vampire/Zutara challenge, I present…  
**

* * *

"**Merits" – Part Nineteen**

The air in Katara's lungs burned like a wild fire as she pumped her legs and ran madly down the deserted streets to her apartment. The puffs of air crystallized immediately at each frantic exhale, but still she heard the man behind her gaining ground quickly, quicker than any normal person should have. She didn't have time to speculate on his inhuman ability, however, as she prioritized her survival over being 'right' at that particular moment.

As she came around a corner--nearly losing her footing on some black ice, though she righted herself with her natural athletic balance--she caught sight of her apartment's parking lot, and then the edifice itself.

_Home!_ She wanted to cheer, but knew she wasn't safe yet.

She made it almost to the walkway before she heard a car peel around the corner behind her, tires screeching, and with a throaty growl skid to a slideways stop just in front of her, barring her from crossing the last driveway before her own. Katara felt her heart drop into her shoes; gritting her teeth in determination, she prepared to leap over the trunk while still on her dead run.

The driver had a different idea, however.

"Get in!" called a distinctly female voice from the driver's seat. The voice was familiar, but Katara couldn't place it. The passenger door swung open to reveal a dark-clothed woman—but the overhead light was extinguished, and everything was hidden in shadows.

_Typical_.

Breathing hard, Katara held her bag and cellphone tightly in her hands and hazarded a glance behind her.

The man with the long mustache and the snake-like eyes had slowed and now closed in on her, a smirk of arrogant presumed-success clear in the features of his sickly-pale face.

Katara felt her stomach lurch and without another thought scrambled into the car and slammed the door.

This angered the man.

As the driver put the car back in gear and pulled a particularly severe traffic violation in the driveway, the man's jacket shrugged open and he spread his arms wide to reveal a glinting, shining inner lining – knives.

"Hold on," grit the desperado behind the wheel; she had one hand on the steering wheel, and the other hovered between the gear shift and the emergency brake. She glanced at Katara from the corner of her eye. "I meant that – get your seatbelt on or grab the holy-shit handles, but we're about to move—_SHIT_," she hissed, and felt a distinct _thud_ strike the car.

Long Feng had thrown a knife at one of the tires. It hadn't punctured it, but it was very close. He smiled again and slowly drew another blade, held it up for their examination, and waited.

"Stay here."

Before she could protest—or thank her, or do anything, really—Katara watched the woman slip smoothly from the car and face the dangerous stalker head on. She closed the door behind her, but Katara could hear the exchange that followed even through the car's insulation.

"Finally come out to play?" asked the man, staring condescendingly down at the small-framed woman before him. It was a bit muffled, but Katara forced herself to calm her breathing so she could get her wind back and keep alert to the state of her rescuer—at least, person-she-assumed-was-rescuing-her. She had no idea who she was. Come to think of it, Zuko had disappeared, too.

Outside, the cool words went back and forth in the crisp night air.

"You call this fair play?" the dark-clad brunette shot back, arms close to her sides. Katara saw her start to reach slowly behind her back, and realized the woman kept several … sticks? tucked into her belt. It was too dark to see them clearly, but they looked like sticks. Or folded up papers. Katara squinted, but it was too dark to see them clearly. She thought for a second they'd been fans, but that was ludicrous.

_What the heck is going on?..._

"You're right, we haven't even introduced ourselves yet. What would you like me to engrave on your headstone?" he asked solicitously, and smiled like a demon. "That is, if you're lucky enough to die before I consume you."

"Take care to spell it right," said the woman sweetly, yet with deadly intent as she shifted her weight slightly. But her words were what jolted Katara's memory. _"Take care…"_

"The bartender," she whispered to herself from the car's interior; outside the woman went on.

"My name is Suki. Suki the vampire slayer."

* * *

**TBC.**

**  
AN: Habit, I hope you enjoyed your thank-you Zutara lemon fic in "Silk & Twisted" (it is number 11, "Tilt your head a little") ! Everyone, thank you for reading! (I love you more the more you comment -- yes, blatant bribery.) XD** Hope you're all looking forward to the 'final countdown' for the ATLA finale!

/First posted July 5th 2008.

/mm.


	21. Chapter 21

**Author: moor / beyondthemoor on LJ  
Title: Merits  
Part : Twenty  
Genre: Romance/humour/vamp/Modern AU  
Fandom: Avatar: TLA  
Pairing: Zutara, Jetara  
Length: 1300 words, approx.  
Rating: M  
Disclaimer : "Avatar: The Last Airbender" and all related rights belong to their original creators… I am not among their ranks.  
AN: In response to hyperoo' s vampire/Zutara challenge, I present…  
**

* * *

"**Merits" – Part Twenty**

Zuko rounded the corner to discover an unauthorized third party had entered their mist and their battle.

The petite warrior seemed perfectly capable of holding her own, however, he noted after a moment or so; she wielded a lethal wood-and-metal fan in each hand while she and Long Feng circled each other in front of a car whose engine still idled. A ragged-looking woman peeked out from the darkness—and Zuko realized Katara, while a little worse for wear, was safe inside the vehicle.

The fans raised smoothly and their sharp edges pointed faultlessly at Long Feng's neck.

Whoever this newcomer was, she at least had the right idea.

"My name is Suki. Suki the vampire slayer," he heard the brunette state proudly.

_Of course she's a vampire slayer,_ he thought to himself, some of his initial optimism going flacid. He prayed she had selective taste.

There was no more time for thinking or speculation then as Long Feng's face twisted savagely and he flew forward with his unsheathed blade, slicing expertly at every vulnerability he found in Suki's defensive stance.

But the weaknesses were an act. Suki dropped her wounded bird routine as soon as the vampire was within her range; she swung gracefully, powerfully around with her fans, slicing deeply into his chest and forearm, disarming him with a tight flurry of efficient moves. Her storm of strikes in the cold snowy air was as breathtaking as it was effective.

With a sucking hiss, Long Feng dropped one of his weapons and glared suspiciously at her. The cuts on his person sizzled audibly and a faint trail of steam rose from each seeping wound. He'd underestimated her, greatly.

"Dipped in holy water," explained the female warrior lightly of the fan's affect on his seared flesh. Face tightening, the ancient monster looked vicious, and quite murderous at the treachery and she who'd inflicted it. Suki shrugged and smiled sweetly. "Oops, did I forget to mention that?" She snapped the fans shut to flick off the crisped undead flesh, and then turned slightly to face him again. Her midnight-blue eyes were as calm as a clear night sky, and just as unforgiving. "If you want more, come and get it."

Each eyed the other a moment; Long Feng paused before smirking again and raising his good arm.

Still approaching, Zuko knew immediately what the other vampire had planned, and raced to prevent it.

"Get out of the way!" he yelled and crunched through the snow in his rush to the match; his call distracted the fighting pair.

Suki glanced at him from the corner of her eye, but Long Feng whirled to see who'd interrupted. Just as he turned, Zuko crashed into him and they both went down, Long Feng's knife flying through the air to land, softly clattering, in the snowy street.

"_Get in the car!"_ holding down Long Feng's sharp, poison-tipped fingers from his wrists, Zuko met Suki's gaze before looking back meaningfully at the vehicle where Katara still waited—or had been waiting. Now she stood outside it, probably to see if there was anything she could do to help.

_Damn her and her good intentions._ He wanted to tell her off, but had his hands full of snarling, powerful vampire warlord at the moment.

"Get off me!" fangs bared, Long Feng's eyes now glowed blood-red with hate as he regarded the man who'd tackled him to the muddy ground.

"No." He dug his hands deeper in the sleeves of the warlord's coat, and his knuckles went white with the tension in them. "You will listen to me, or I will kill you where you lie, Long Feng."

"Impudent fool, do you think you know who I--," started Long Feng, as he grabbed Zuko's wrists and started to wrestle him off. Zuko felt the monster try to throw him aside as if he were an unflattering garment.

Offended, and murderously angry at the attack on Katara, his own prey, Zuko stiffened and shifted; and felt his own power bleed from him to seize the aristocratic vampire he held at bay. Like an invisible, mental vice-grip, he started cutting off Long Feng's life-channels within his undead body; soon, he controlled him.

"I am your Lord, Long Feng. You will bow down to me." Zuko spoke the slow, measured words deeply, softly, and very, very calmly so the girls wouldn't hear them. "Betray me and you will pay."

Long Feng sneered, but held still.

"You're no one's lord, 'your highness'," the man's eyes calmed from red to cat-yellow, however, a clear indication he was at least aware of the power the full-blooded vampire above him yielded.

"Since you're still someone's dog," Zuko said in the same soft voice, "Why don't you lie down for a while?"

With that, Zuko released the man—and knocked him unconscious with a whip of a thought.

Zuko dropped the miserable excuse for an aristocrat and stood a moment later. Long Feng lay immobile, and unresponsive, in the slush at his feet. He faced the women who waited by the car.

"Thank you," said Suki, eyeing him warily. She still held her fans lowered at her sides, but had shut them.

Zuko was fairly sure she couldn't decapitate him with them closed, so he took her conservative stance as a gesture of peace. Nodding back at her, he turned to the source of the skirmish. His office-mate. His prey… His.

Katara stared at each of them in turn, wondering what was going on.

"Zuko," she said finally, to break the awkward, growing silence. "Thank you… I think you warned me. In time."

Suki's head snapped around to look harder at the vampire standing alone and off to the side in the darkness.

"'Zuko'?" asked the bartender curiously, her legs shifting slightly as she turned herself sideways to him.

_She knows…_

"Yes." He met her eyes, and felt her stare at the area where his scar would be. Her breathing remained even—he had to give her that. She knew her stuff. Or at least had been around long enough to learn some lore.

Still keeping her sights on him, Suki tilted her head slightly, towards the escapee. "Your name's Katara, right?" she asked. Katara made an affirmative sound. "Get in the car."

Everyone had been saying that to her tonight; with a skeptical look, she gestured to her apartment building. "Actually, I live right over…"

Her… _friend_ now? took a step towards her, his arms outstretched—until Suki fell into a defensive stance in the blink of an eye, fans raised and pointed at his throat. Katara's voice trapped in her own throat in surprise. Why was Suki was poised to attack Zuko?

"Not another step," the slayer instructed.

Against his pride, Zuko obeyed.

Putting up both his hands in a gesture of peace, he felt his shoulders slump tiredly. "It's ok."

He looked at Katara again, his gold eyes glowing faintly in the night like the occasional flicker of a firefly. "I think you should stay away from your place for a little while."

"Agreed," snapped the warrior.

"But all my things are--."

"They can be retrieved by someone else," interrupted Suki again, her alert focus never leaving Zuko.

"But—."

"Katara, please," insisted Zuko, and for the first time ever she recognized weakness… or was it vulnerability?... in his voice. Perhaps it was just the real 'Zuko' beneath the veneer of snarky-stalker Zuko-from-work. But his sincere tone, just like his frantic call to her cellphone earlier that night, reached inside her and touched her spirit. "Listen to…," he paused for a moment before recalling her name, "Suki."

"… Can I come back Sunday night?" asked the Water Tribe girl, knowing she had work and clothes to prepare for first thing Monday morning.

"We'll see," started Suki, but this time Zuko interrupted.

"We'll check together on Sunday. Ok?" he conceded, eager to get her off the street and concealed behind a closed door somewhere, anywhere—at least away from Long Feng before he regained consciousness. The vampire warlord was still out cold, but Zuko knew it was only a matter of time before he woke up again. He also recognized Katara was stubborn, and some concessions would need to be made to keep her cooperative.

Suki glared at him for giving in so easily, but he ignored her.

"We're going," stated Suki, and she opened her car door. For the first time since learning Zuko's identity, she tore her eyes away from him and looked at Katara. "We'll go to a safe place and we'll make arrangements, ok?"

Katara considered her options, and decided that there'd been enough weirdness for one Bomber night. "Ok. But we're coming back--."

"Sunday," promised Zuko.

"Yeah," Katara stifled a yawn, leaning against the car door frame. "Ok. See you… Sunday," she said, and glanced at him strangely.

He held her eyes, wondering what she wanted.

Suki slammed her car door shut, breaking the connection between the two. "We'll call you," she informed the vampire sullenly.

He nodded and watched them drive off before his hands reached into his pockets. From the bottom, he gently wrapped the soft scarf he kept around his fingers…

* * *

**TBC…**

**AN: Thank you for reading!** You guys really keep me going with this story! (I can't believe you guys are still reading – I'm doing my best to bump up my update schedule on this fic to try and make it up to you.)

**AN: And now, for something I rarely do: Some Pimping,** but only the good stuff! I'm guessing you are already familiar with the 'greats' of the fandom (who basically created 'Zutara' canon). If you are looking for good (mature) fic outside some of the Big Names, I highly recommend the following:

-"College Daze" and "Dragons & Lotuses" by renagrrl (fantastic modern AUs!)  
-"Cellmates" by solitary guard (mature Avatar-verse; I'd almost say a darkfic...)  
-"The Vampire Prince of Fire" by Lady Mondragon (AU vampire Zutara-exceptional!)  
-Everything by hyperoo. "Maturity" and "Mindbenders" (a vamp Zutara!) are fantastic mature fic, and "Spoils of War" is another Zutara with super storytelling. (... "Sheets" is a personal fav...)  
-"Hidden Strength Soap Opera story collection" by LoveroftheFlame. (modern AU, various pairings) Just... Wow. Check out the LJ that's listed -- that is where the main story is housed. But LOTF's profile holds a great sampler and you'll get to dabble a bit in really neat, unique interpretations of the characters and how they'd act in a modern AU. It is based on a long-running RPG. I had a lot of fun reading it.

**AN: Also, here's a list of some of the thank-you fics** that I have completed for you guys—I hope you've liked them!

-(review number) (reviewer) (request) (completed & title)

**-25: Castle Anthrax** (dedicate a chapter of "Merits", or write a prequel dealing with the main chars, earlier in their lives.) (DONE; need to post later...)  
**-50: Avatarairis** (DONE –Ch.11 of "Merits"! Modern high-school AU.) "In your own company"  
**-75: taffy0823** (DONE –Posted separately; what I thought may have happened during the "Ember Island Players" episode of ATLA. Written/posted prior to the episode being shown.) "L'Illusion Comique"  
**-100: Avatargirl92** (??) Did you get back to me about what you wanted? I'm sorry, I can't find your request! (I feel terrible about this!)  
**-125: Habit** (DONE –Posted as Ch.11 of "Silk & Twisted" Zutara lemon.) "Tilt your head a little"  
**-150: SgtHydra** (COMING SOON—wants VampireHunter Suki on an earlier mission; plotted, partially written) Will be posted as the next part of "Merits".  
**-200 :** this is up to who writes the 200th review!

**AN: Thank you guys again for sticking with this fic** – and if you have suggestions, please don't be shy; I always appreciate plot-bunnies. (They're great to prompt me!) And some of you guys have really fantastic ideas, stuff I'd never have thought of. If you want to theorize in comments, I'm not gonna discourage you... :-)

**/this chap first posted 29 July 2008.**

/BTW, yes, I saw the finale! Talk about an animation field day—wasn't the cinematography amazing?


	22. Chapter 22

**Author: moor / beyondthemoor on LJ  
Title: Merits  
Part : Twenty one  
Genre: Romance/humour/vamp/Modern AU  
Fandom: Avatar: TLA  
Pairing: Zutara, Jetara  
Length: 3000 words, approx.  
Rating: M  
Disclaimer : "Avatar: The Last Airbender" and all related rights belong to their original creators… I am not among their ranks.  
AN: In response to hyperoo' s vampire/Zutara challenge, I present…  
**

* * *

**Part Twenty one**

_A few weeks prior, in a city on the other side of the gulf…_

Breathing evenly through the hard-racing pace, Suki grabbed the chain link fence and vaulted easily over the barbed-wire that trimmed the top, her temporarily exposed tummy clearing it with inches to spare. From the left she heard the sound of casually retreating footsteps, and focused her attention on their rhythm so she'd recognize its cadence in the crowd she knew he was trying to escape into. They were approaching a very busy street.

"Not so fast, bloodsucker," she murmured to herself, and set off on his trail again.

The problem wasn't tracking him – he was recently turned enough that his movements were still awkward, cocky, and thirsty – but rather trying to corner and do away with him without an audience. Being mid-day in a busy corporate and shopping district… was not ideal. There was something else about the young man that bothered her, the way he moved wasn't quite right; the sounds he made weren't quite in sync. Something was wrong but she couldn't figure out what. But he was her target, and she was tenacious.

The stupid sucker was smart enough to keep to crowds. Her mouth turned down in distaste. _Or he was… hunting._

Sweeping him from the side streets, Suki went over the layout of the downtown core she'd memorized from a map tacked raggedly to the gas station wall the last time she'd filled the tank of her car. There were a lot of businesses and retail shops coming up – but luckily the opportunity for several alleyways, too, or, if it really came down to it, construction sites she could finish him in.

The gods were smiling on her that day it seemed, though, as soon enough she got her chance. He was just passing a row of abandoned warehouses being duly renovated into 'loft' condominiums when she made her move.

Rushing from his blindside, she pounced on him, the impact driving him behind a fallen tarpaulin before he managed to make a sound. She made sure of it.

As they skidded to a stop, she didn't hear anything around her beyond the fluttering of the tarp in the breeze; the workers were on their lunch break. Well, anything beyond her prey's useless thrashing; she tied a formidable knot with wood-fiber rope around his hands to immobilize them.

"You have one chance," she whispered darkly to the struggling vampire in her grasp. "Who is your sire and where can I find him?"

The young man shook his head in terror, his eyes wide. He'd thought he'd been at the top of the food chain up until a moment before, but this petite woman had trapped him easily. Even as a human he'd never known such obvious superiority—yet she could best a vampire? It was a chilling notion to someone who'd been promised a quick ride to the top…

Still, she had asked the impossible of him. His eyes remained wide. He was terrified of his sire.

"Who. Is. He?"

Again, he shook his head, and the effort cost him as he had to move his whole body in order to make the gesture.

"Look, we can do this the hard way or the easy way. Personally, I like the easy way," she said in a no-nonsense tone, tilting his head back with one hand and placing a stake over his heart with the other. "Real. Easy."

She lifted her hand off his mouth for a second, and he gasped, though not too deeply due to the stake's precarious position.

"I don't know where he is—."

"Could you bend a bit further back? I'd like a clear shot of your rib cage – I'd hate to miss and shatter ribs before I puncture your—."

"OK!" he wheezed in terror. "Please, just--."

"I'm waiting--."

"Long Feng."

Suki went still as a frozen river – the surface unflinchingly smooth, beautiful, but whose deadly torrents swirled icily underneath.

"Long Feng is dead," she heard herself reply, but from very far off.

At this, the man, vampire, in her arms barked once, in surprise and laughter. "He wanted you to think he was dead." He struggled with his bonds, trying to buy himself time. "But he'd been working in secret. He turned me less than a month ago. Please, that's all I know."

"What did he look like?" demanded Suki, the new information swirling through her reeling head. Long Feng isn't dead. Long Feng is out there again. Still. She wasn't sure why the ancient monster had confided so much in the vampire she held, or if he may even have been lying to her – but one didn't joke about Long Feng. He was one of The Five.

And he's turning fresh recruits.

The young man in her arms whimpered as her ropes dug into them – particularly hard when she yanked him one way and their sharp edges the other.

"Please don't make me remember, please, I've told you what you wanted…"

"Here comes Mr. Stakey again!" She puppeted the stake in a childish skip across his torso.

"Would you stop that!" he cried, and Suki dragged him further back into the building's ruined interior. There was construction equipment everywhere. The workers would be back soon, she had to finish with her interrogation. Or risk some very bad… publicity.

"Please, let me go!"

"Last. Chance. You talk, or you smoke."

Sniffling, he rubbed his eye against his shoulder to wipe away at a tear that had leaked through. A part of Suki felt guilty of her rough treatment of the young man – he looked physically younger than she was, in reality, and if he'd only been turned a month before… he probably hadn't even finished high school yet.

"He…," shuddering, he shut his eyes. "His… his eyes went all white, right before he… And he has a long black mustache. It looks like a snake died on his face. And he has a long ponytail--."

"Braid."

"No, ponytail," argued the young man, and glanced up at Suki behind him – before going completely pale.

It hadn't been Suki arguing with him.

His mouth opened and closed several times like a gaping fish sucking for air.

But Suki knew who'd spoken. Knew who was standing behind her.

"I would prefer you call it a plait, though," corrected the vampire warlord who placed a delicate, long-nailed claw paternally on Suki's shoulder. It reminded her of worms crawling over her skin.

"Please kill me," the young man in her arms begged quietly, his eyes not leaving her face. "Please, before he does it. Please kill me, if you don't, he'll… he'll…"

Suki knew exactly what he'd do.

Her eyes still locked with one of the oldest, most terrifying monsters of her Slayer Lore, she released the boy's head, slid the hand down his throat to his chest to feel the odd-rhythmed heartbeat of the vampire. Contrary to popular belief, they did have them, they were just different than a human's.

She pulled the stake back a few inches to get a good start.

"Mercy," he pleaded one last time.

And she gave it.

Long Feng's eyes didn't leave hers, even when she felt the body slip through her hands to land with a thud on the floor.

There was a sound.

The bad feeling she'd had before, when she'd first observed the young man, railed through her; her heartbeat raced to match the rushing in her ears. Something was wrong.

He didn't smoke.

_Why didn't he smoke?_

"I didn't finish turning him," Long Feng said softly, a sparkle in his eye. "You just killed…"

_An innocent human_, her inner voice filled in for him. _Oh no, no no no no no…_

A sick roiling began in her gut, but she forced it down, forced herself to keep her eyes on the man in front of her despite the tears starting at the corners of her eyes. Angry, guilty, self-loathing tears of frustration.

"What did you do?" She swore, her teeth clenched as she bit off each frigid syllable. Her knuckles tightened as she clenched her fist tighter and tighter around the stake in her hand until she thought it would splinter from the force.

"He thought he was turned; thought he was one of you; mimicked your movements," Suki realized aloud, and started turning to face Long Feng proper. She threw his gruesome hand off her shoulder, and he looked down at her disapprovingly, as he would a child who'd misbehaved.

"Ah, the impetuousness of youth," said the monster. "So eager to believe." Then he smiled at her, his reptilian eyes and green robes—how he'd worn something so traditional and outstanding while he'd been travelling the city and remained incognito, she had no idea—caught the shimmer of light that infiltrated the building, like water on writhing, slimy scales; and she knew she was about to fight for her survival.

"And you," he continued unconcerned by her vengeful focus, "so eager to punish them."

So she'd killed more of his 'un-turned' kin. More innocents.

_Stay calm_, Suki, she told herself and refused to be sick in front of him. Stay calm.

"Are you done talking? Because I'd really like to get a head start on removing your spleen," she said, and in the blink of an eye had traded the stake for her fans, now aimed at his throat. She was perfectly willing to work her way down. Slowly.

"I have nothing more to say. Our guests, on the other hand, may require a word with you," he remarked in a gloating tone, and pointed behind her.

The swirling, flashing lights atop several cruisers could be seen blinking through the white plastic tarpaulins hanging around them. Through the not-yet-installed doors and windows, where it let in daylight it also let in the local authorities.

Someone had called the cops.

Long Feng smirked smugly as he stood with both hands behind his back.

"Have a good afternoon," he said, and disappeared.

Rubbing the trails of frustration from her face with the back of her hand, Suki felt her knees shake at everything that had happened within the last few minutes, its severity and likely repercussions, and stumbled forward and down. Under her fingers her hands touched a still-warm body that lay crumpled in a heap at her feet.

The young man.

No. The _kid_.

The one who'd been used as a decoy to draw her out and reveal her physical identity.

And the double-edged sword, the bad news that was possibly the only 'good' to come out of her encounter: The truth that Long Feng was indeed still… 'alive'.

Eyes closed tight for a moment. _Breathe in, breathe out.  
_

_Bless the kid_, the mantra played in her head as she repeated the prayer—spell—she'd learned as a younger woman in order to protect the dead who'd been touched by vampires.

As Suki heard the loud footfalls of the officers arriving on the scene, she said a final word of thanks to the young man who'd given his life that day. And promised him she would make things right.

For now she had to escape and let her Coven know that one of The Five moved among them, again.

* * *

"We'll be safe here," announced Suki as she led Katara through the backdoor of the enormous house. Mansion. Compound. Complex.

Its all-encompassing size was giving Katara a complex at any rate.

"You live… here?" Katara struggled to stay awake, and despite her awe she felt her eyelids dropping and threatening to shut entirely. But she'd made polite small talk until this point, so there was nothing to do but keep going forward. Like she could really run from the woman beside her anyway.

The residence was amazing, from its gated entryway to the stone steps that led to the rear multi-story garage, to the heavy oak doors that creaked softly in welcome as they crossed the threshold. There wasn't a sound indoors otherwise, and Suki shut the oak panels behind them with a muted _swish_. Katara glanced down and noticed plush carpet that enveloped the soles of her booted feet in the semi-darkness. She immediately started fumbling with her muddy footwear.

"I'll just leave these by the door, so I don't track any," more, "mud in," she mumbled, and swayed when she bent over to kick them off. She nearly lost her balance and threw her arms to the side, catching her hand on a pebbled tile mosaic on the vestibule wall. The imprint dug into her palm slightly, but Katara paid it no mind; there was already a strong hand around her upper arm.

Catching her easily, her rescuer smiled ruefully as she righted her new friend.

"I think we'll focus on getting you some rest first, not compound head injuries," she teased, and led Katara across the wide foyer to a side corridor. Katara nodded and followed, and forgot that Suki hadn't answered her first question.

"I love your entryway – do you entertain a lot?" she asked, her voice echoing slightly as they passed through a small archway. They hadn't seen anyone else in the building since they'd arrived, though there'd been the shadowy presence of other cars in the garage and she'd seen the glow of lights spilling from the elongated windows. They weren't alone in the… residence? Luxury bunker? Where were they?

"Oh, that's actually the back door. I think the servants use it… not the, uh, main household," clarified the confident tour-guide.

People these days still have servants? Wondered Katara, a bit unhappily. She paused at what Suki had said, then.

Wait. That was the _back_ door?

"Is the front one made of gold? No, wait, lemme guess—that's where they have the milk and fresh Porsches dropped off. One of each for every day of the week."

Suki laughed beautifully, and wiped gently at her eyes. Some of the makeup still smudged a bit around the corners.

Katara looked at her suspiciously, but hopefully. The ornate silver and gold metal accents and trims on Suki's snug, military-like clothes caught the faint lamp light they passed. They glinted sharply, lovely, a reminder of her stealthy, brutal prowess.

"I said something along those lines when I first came," she explained and pointed her thumb back at the monstrous doors, trying to put Katara at ease that this wasn't her usual environment either.

Together at their newfound common ground, they snickered as they walked to what would be Katara's room. They said their goodnights quickly, with some warmth and only minor hesitation, before Katara closed and locked the door behind her at Suki's instructions. She heard her only acquaintance walk away, but only for a footstep or two before the rich carpeting swallowed the sounds entirely again.

Katara took a step into her room and stopped to look around the open chamber, the simple, elegant bed, the doorway that led to the washroom Suki had indicated, the blinds which didn't completely hide the fact the windows were barred from the outside.

"So this isn't her house, either…" she realized aloud, and swallowed.

_Where am I and who brought me here?_

* * *

"She's settled in," Suki announced to her host when she reached a more modern-style sitting room. Thank goodness they'd provided her with a floor plan before she'd flown in, otherwise she was sure she'd have lost herself several times over in the gigantic home.

"Did she have any questions?"

Smiling from the corner of her mouth and raising her eyebrow, Suki couldn't help but put a hand to her cocked hip. "She wondered about the goldsmith who worked on the front door."

It was obvious Toph's head fell back by the delighted cackle that erupted as she laughed. "We'll set her straight in the morning, Suki. Thanks," she said, and the teasing tone was almost sensitive enough to convey how grateful Toph truly was that she'd been able to save her best friend.

"Happy to help," replied the slayer, and she stretched a bit to cool down from her evening's battle – and work. "I've had my eye on Long Feng for a while. I appreciate having a 'sponsor' of sorts, for a little while. It was nice to be able to walk in with a cover job already set up."

"Does Katara know where she is?"

"Not a clue."

"Breakfast is gonna be fun."

"Gimme a ring when the food's on the table?" joked Suki.

"You're free for the night now, yeah. Go sleep. I have my own people on surveillance here at the main house," Toph waved her off.

"See ya in the morning."

"With silverbells on my toes."

Toph waited until she heard the door close behind Suki before turning back to the man who'd sat in the corner, silently, through the entire exchange.

He sighed heavily, a sound of gratitude. She waited for him to speak first.

"…Thank you, Toph."

"Hey, this makes us even."

Opening his arms to hug her, he stepped forward to embrace her but she put up a hand to his chest and held him at bay.

"I'm too tired to do you, but thanks for the offer," she said caustically, and elbowed him towards the door. "Now get out of my living room."

Grunting a bit, he chuckled and rubbed his sore ribs.

"…I won't be hungry at breakfast…"

"Like I care," she retorted, and heard him chuckle again and leave through a different door than Suki. "Hey, one thing."

"Hmm?" he murmured, half-turning to face her again.

"Her room is off-limits to you tonight." Mistress Toph Bei Fong commanded. "Stay away from her."

Without a sound of acknowledgement, he blew from the chilled room in frustration.

A few minutes later she heard the car start in the garage and he drove away, possibly to his own home, possibly out for another tour of the city.

The room was quiet, finally, and Toph flopped down backwards on a big, overstuffed couch.

Only then did she put her hands to her face and rub the warm irritation from her eyes.

"Damn you, Katara. What are you, cursed?" Mentally browbeating the closest friend she had –and that she'd nearly lost that night--, the young woman growled throatily and forced herself to regain her composure. She was Toph Bei Fong. Not a wimpy nancy-pants. No more of this silly crying crap. She had an _empire_ to run!

Without another pitiful thought, Toph thumped her fists down on the couch beside her before hopping back to her feet, squaring her proud, haughty shoulders to head to the marble-tiled shower.

If Katara was going to be a source of grief and stress for Toph, Toph could at least plot ways to 'thank' her for it. With interest…

Truly, vengeance was such a soothing balm on her soul.

* * *

**TBC.**

**AN: Thank you so much for reading!** Here you go – nearly ten full pages of story, to make up for that really short chap I posted a few chaps back.  
**AN: SgtHydra**, here is your thank-you fic! (Suki on an earlier Vampire Hunting mission.) I'm tempted to write another one, or create a sub-series for Suki-stories after your prompt, though. Damn it was hard to choose which one to write! (The others would have been too long to incorporate directly into "Merits", however…) I hope this is ok!

AN: I hope you guys aren't too thrown by the BTVS, Producers, etc. references?...

/mm. This chap first posted August 15th, 2008. _HAVE A GREAT WEEKEND!_


	23. Chapter 23

**Author: moor / beyondthemoor on LJ  
Title: Merits  
Part : Twenty two  
Genre: Romance/humour/vamp/Modern AU  
Fandom: Avatar: TLA  
Pairing: Zutara, Jetara  
Length: 3000 words, approx.  
Rating: M  
Disclaimer : "Avatar: The Last Airbender" and all related rights belong to their original creators… I am not among their ranks.  
AN: In response to hyperoo' s vampire/Zutara challenge, I present…  
**

* * *

**Part Twenty two**

_The morning after…_

His hand rested in her hair as he kneeled beside her bed, giving it the most fragile of touches as if testing to see if she was really there or another hallucination his loneliness had conjured to torture him with. But it was dark, soft, and just a bit wavy, as he'd always remembered it. Her skin was smooth and her mouth and cheeks relaxed as she dreamed, and she looked so innocent and pure he tried to memorize her just like that, for when he'd need to remember such hopeful things in the dark comings.

Unashamed, he removed his shirt and trousers and ever so carefully slipped into bed beside her, spooning in behind her sleeping form to hold her close to him and bury his face in her hair and sigh with happiness, relief, and longing.

When she turned to him in her sleep seeking his warmth, he smiled almost sadly and tucked her against him, resting her head on his shoulder. Her pleasant sigh reminded him of so many mornings they'd shared before, and his heart ached for all he'd lost.

He wanted it back.

Slowly he bent his head forward and lay the softest of kisses upon her forehead; instinctively he continued, moving inch by inch down past the curve of her ear to her jaw to rest at the skin of her throat, her pulse, suck it until it blossomed red from his mouth's attentions. Under the blankets her fingers reached for him and he clasped her hand in his and held it to his heart, too eager to have her fingers touch him elsewhere and he too tightly controlled to risk her undoing him.

Then she stirred, and all too soon she woke and looked up at him, startled—but aroused. With the slightest movement, she turned in his arms and brought her own arms around his neck, pulling him closer. Suddenly she was kissing him back, passionately, as if they'd never been apart and she needed him just as much as he wanted her.

Together they undid her nightclothes and he pushed her shirt off while she pushed his shorts past his waist, his hips, his knees…

"Aang," she whispered against his ear, and he groaned in pleasure. He'd waited so long to hear her say his name that way. Days, weeks, months, years. Her voice saying his name that way was the strongest aphrodisiac he'd ever encountered. Her name fell lovingly from his lips as he reached for the swell of her hips. Too long, it had been far, far too long…

"Aang," she said more urgently, and he moved faster, more desperately, fingers digging into her flesh.

"Aang. _Aang!_" she called, and there was something different about this voice. He struggled to see through the haze that had started filling his mind and sat up with a start.

At the breakfast table.

"Aang, could you please pass me the margarine?" said Katara in exasperation.

"Huh?"

His world was crumbling. And all he could do was stare bleary-eyed at her in confusion.

"Never mind, I'll just take the jam," sighed the frustrated young woman, grabbing the small pot from her other side before spooning it in set dollops onto her toast.

Aang realized then that he had just nearly had sex with his ex… in his head… at the breakfast table.

Sputtering hard he tried to down a glass of juice to clear his head, but ended up choking on it.

"… so I got home after missing Long Feng and found an e-mail from Toph's organization telling me to check my mailbox. They'd left me plane tickets and a copy of the _New York Bartenders Guide_ and told me I was needed in Ba Sing Se. They'd already spoken with my Keep--er, my boss, so I was cleared. That's how I ended up here."

Suki bit into her sausage & eggs and calmly looked at Katara as Sokka thumped Aang on the back with a casual _"You ok, man?"._

"This Long Feng guy… I think you should stay away from him," Suki said cautiously, and pushed her food to the side of her plate as she considered her next words. "I think you should also stay away from Zuko Sozin."

The table quieted slightly as Katara looked suspiciously at the newest addition to their group.

"You and Zuko both helped me last night," she replied evenly. "I admit, Zuko's… difficult at times," Toph coughed loudly from the side, "But I think he's ok."

It was Sokka's turn to start choking from shock.

"Zuko? _'Ok'?_ What happened to the big monster you thought was stalking you?! Doesn't last night kind of prove he's been keeping more than just a _professional_ eye on you?"

"Well it kind of worked in my favour last night so I'm willing to give him a chance now!"

"How do you know they weren't in it together?"

"Zuko and Long Feng would never work together," Suki interrupted, sensing a battle brewing between the siblings. Both looked over at her, startled. Everyone had stopped eating at this point.

"And why's that, oh mysterious one?" retorted Sokka sarcastically, trying to regain a foothold in the argument.

Katara narrowed her eyes at him in warning, but Suki ignored his tone.

"Because Zuko is banished from his clan for doing something dishonourable and Long Feng is one of the ones who banished him."

Katara felt her face tighten in confusion before she felt another headache coming on; Sokka's debate skills were roaring for the challenge, however, and her own thoughts were drowned out by his conspiracy theories.

"So those two people, who are what? Mortal enemies? Just _happened_ to be in the same city, same street, at the same time? That's a lot of coincidence if you ask me. It's too convenient. There must be something else," his curiosity and sense of investigation piqued, Sokka leaned back in his chair and tilted his chin up as he thought about the situation. "There's definitely something else. Something drew them both here. They're looking for something, or want to decide something, or need to prove something if they're both here together. I'm guessing they're both bigwigs or this wouldn't be happening at all so openly. And why would they risk doing it so openly in front of you and Katara?— "

"So, yes, Suki's here because I asked her to join us when I felt a disturbance in the Force," interrupted Toph as she gave an exaggerated, long suffering sigh in Sokka's general direction. "Lemme know when you come to some kind of conclusion with your conspiracy theory, Meat Bag. Got that? _Conclusion_. You can keep the Intro and Middle to yourself."

"But what did you mean about clans?" Katara broke in, rubbing the side of her head. "Are they rich? This sounds… like …" Her headache splintered and pain erupted in her skull; her vision went black and she grit her teeth to keep from crying out. A hiss escaped her teeth, though, and she fought to keep herself upright as her balance evaporated.

Aang and Sokka jumped up from their chairs and it was the younger man who reached her first to steady her.

"Whoa, whoa, you ok, Katara?" he asked, his eyes round with concern.

"Boulder! Hee Po!" called Toph, and the two men appeared at her side on a run. "See that Katara reaches her room and get her some water and Tylenol 3. Make sure she's comfy as a spoiled princess, got that lugheads?"

"Yes ma'am."

"I'll go with you," offered Aang, but Toph shook her head.

"How about I go? I'm finished eating anyway," said Suki, and when Toph didn't disagree the foursome left, Katara supported on both sides by the large, wrestler-built bodyguards.

"Come back when she's settled," was all the hostess said as they exited the room. Katara was in so much pain she didn't argue even as the bodyguards escorted her.

Aang still half-stood, watching them shuffle carefully along as Toph cleared her throat and put her hands palms down on the large, solid wood table. Aang's anxiety was still palpable and even Sokka looked a bit contrite as he watched his sister leave.

But it was Toph who was most upset.

"People," she said calmly, and there was no question that her tone was rife with gravity. "We need to have a talk."

* * *

_In Toph's private rooms…_

"Uh… I think I've already had this talk," said Aang, feeling uncomfortable.

Suki had rejoined them and Toph had sent her two closest bodyguards back to the security station to monitor the surveillance set up in Katara's room. As much as she wanted to have someone with Katara at all times, she needed everyone on the same page as soon as possible more.

"You don't know the half of it," grumbled Toph to the group gathered around her coffee table.

Suki set down a folder on the table and pulled out its contents. She held out a picture of Long Feng and a picture of Zuko.

"What we couldn't say in front of Katara is that Long Feng and Zuko Sozin are vampires," stated Suki. "I'm a vampire slayer. You're probably already putting two and two together, Sokka."

"You kill monsters. Great. If that's what all this is about, I'd like to take this opportunity to park my engine at Reality Station and go find something a bit lighter than what you've all been smoking. Thank you, and please don't take it the wrong way but I'll never recommend your dinner theatre to anyone."

"Sokka!" Aang grabbed his friend's arm as he got up to leave irritably. He stared hard at him a moment before speaking. "They're not lying. I know about this stuff, too. It's why I had to leave."

"Look, Aang, this really isn't the time to bring up the reason you left my baby sister when she was at the most vulnerable point in her life," threatened the Water Tribe man. "Now let go."

Sokka tugged his arm free and started towards the door again. "I don't know what you guys are playing at, but leave Katara out of it. We've been friends a long time." He kept the rest of the threat unspoken. "But she has worked too hard to lose anything else. We lost our parents when we were kids. Her fiancé left her at the altar," he glared at Aang, "She was nearly attacked last night," he faced Toph and Suki. "And I don't even know what's wrong now, but she's had this stupid headache for over a month now – and this is _Katara_. She who miraculously figures out how to heal everyone. Who is a health nut most of the time. Yet she's sick, and she's getting worse every day." He paused to calm down, realizing after the fact that he'd started yelling. "She does not need whatever the hell is going on."

Unclenching the hands he'd balled into fists, Sokka let out his breath tiredly.

"Thanks for breakfast. I'm gonna go see my sister now and take her home." The carpet muffled the harsh footsteps he took in the direction of the door, but it didn't escape Toph's sensitive ears.

"No."

"What?" Patience dwindling, Sokka whipped around to look at the petite, blind woman in the room who'd spoken back to him. She'd maneuvered herself around the table and now she stood facing him, focusing on the direction of his voice, and had stopped a few feet from the chair he'd vacated.

"I said no."

"Why you--."

"She will die if we don't start figuring out how to help her."

He gaped at her incredulously. "She's not that sick--."

"She isn't going to die of sickness, Sokka. At least, not yet." She obviously couldn't see the man who was ready to hit her for her comment, but the tension rolling off him was murderous. Good, she had his attention. "You aren't even willing to listen to what we're saying! We're trying to tell you, _Katara's in danger_. If you want to protect her, if you want to save her, you need to start working with us." It was Toph now whose lovely, tiny hands were curled into fists at her side as she shook with anger. Her normally pale, flawless cheeks had flushed and her eyebrows had dipped and met in the middle of her prestigious forehead. The wrath of a Bei Fong was legendary, and Sokka had incurred it in spades.

"How much do you know about those legends your Tribe taught you as a kid?" she snapped, whirling on him and taking a step closer. "Did you ever consider that they may not have been stories but histories, warnings and lessons instead? Did you ever think about what would happen if they were to start repeating themselves now, in the twenty-first century where we depend so much on science and so little on our natural instincts? Katara's big project about those legends you always blew off and joked about is about to start getting pretty damn real, and I'm doing everything I can to bring in the biggest fucking guns I can carry, and I don't need YOU stepping in dog shit and messing everything up. Katara is my best friend and I will protect her with my last dying breath if that's what it takes, but so help me if you get in my way you are going down, Sokka Kuruk. Katara is what matters right now. She needs us." _And we need her,_ but she couldn't admit that aloud yet. Knew Sokka needed more time before that was spoken aloud, admitted, accepted.

Her shaking had calmed to a fine trembling, but it encompassed her small body.

And then she stomped her foot, and strangely enough Sokka almost thought he felt the building shake.

It was quiet as he stood still, watching her. His Toph, who was smart ass and bold and rude and had the biggest heart of any person he'd ever met. Who hit him and teased him and cuddled with him in bed in the wee hours of the morning when she'd finish work and collapse on top of him before spontaneously deciding he hadn't suffered enough tickling in the past week and they needed to make quota. Her strength, her vitality and her determination drove her, and while she may be stubborn she was also invariably right. She faced things head on.

She was angry as a wild boar hound and that could only mean one thing.

She was terrified.

"Toph," his voice carried easily, softly in the quiet room. From their own chairs, Suki and Aang watched, listening but not interfering.

She ignored his tempered call. "So," she growled and tromped up to him and poked him hard in the chest to show she meant business. "I need to know right now. Are you going to help us or are you volunteering for dog-dirt duty?"

"You know I don't want anything to happen to her, either," he said. He raised a hand to touch her, connect with her physically, gently, but she shrugged him off.

"Good, you can beg my forgiveness later. For now, sit your ass in that chair." She pointed ever so helpfully. "You need to start listening and learning a whole lot of stuff that's about to scare the scoobies out of you."

Rant finished, Toph spun around and stomped back to her seat. "If we're all done our drama, let's do this."

And they did. This was the morning Sokka began his education in the supernatural world that co-existed along with his; the shape-shifters, the vampires and the witches. There wasn't time to go into the other groups, the woven lore, their arcana; but the struggle for power, the strengths and vulnerabilities of each group, and the last battle for supremacy were all brought to light to an outsider for the first time in generations.

Sokka's head spun from the knowledge and realization that his world wasn't what he'd always thought it was. He was aware now of the precarious balance that existed between the different factions that sought to control the collective underworld nations.

And the war that had waged over a century earlier that humanity had nearly lost.

It was fought just outside a small mining town.

The heroine's name had been Yue.

And Toph's coven had a feeling that Katara was either Yue's direct descendant, or worse: her reincarnation.

"Ok, ok, so that's the _history_," said Sokka, still reeling and putting things together several hours later. He was glad he'd taken a seat some time ago.

The other three nodded; in truth, they'd been amazed that Sokka, the engineer of their group, had accepted so much so easily, but they weren't about to look a gift horse in the mouth. They needed him on board, and it would go a lot smoother if he signed up voluntarily.

"But if Zuko's banished for some reason, what does he have to do with Katara?"

"That big battle, that your tribe fought?" said Suki softly, holding his gaze. "It was Zuko who botched his duty to bring Yue to his father. Zuko was a prince; sacrificing Yue at the Fire Court was incremental his coronation."

"Vampire society has an elaborately defined social hierarchy based on honour, reputation and power," explained Toph. "Zuko wouldn't be fully recognized as Crown Prince until he killed Yue in front of the court."

"He failed, and was banished by The Five," added Aang. A strange note in his voice caught Sokka's attention, but he continued. "They gave him two options."

"In order to regain his honour, he needs to either annihilate the Slayers Keep, or summon up Yue again," added Suki ruefully; in the next instant, her face paled and her mouth dropped open in surprise. "That's it! That's why Long Feng was half-turning all those teenagers in my last city. He was trying to lure out the slayers!" Her fist pounded into her palm as she connected the dots. "How did I not realize that?" She made a self-hating noise from the back of her throat and glared at the picture she'd brought of the gloating, mustached man. "And in broad daylight, too… I'm so stupid…"

"Why would Long Feng need to do that?" asked Toph; she had several ideas, but they needed to brainstorm. If others came to the same conclusions she was…

They all hunched over the edges of their seats as they spoke, the energy sizzling between them.

"I'm not sure… he may have been banished, but I don't remember hearing about that." Suki's eyes flicked over to Aang. "Any ideas?"

Before he could speak, though, Sokka straightened.

"… wait… what if he's trying to stop Zuko from regaining his honour?" he said slowly.

"Then why would he be doing that?"

"I don't know! I just found out there ARE vampires and all the rest of this stuff – you're gonna have to give me a few minutes to figure out their motivations!"

"Miss Bei Fong," a charming electronic chime introduced the Boulder's rough voice on the intercom. Sokka, Suki and Aang continued arguing so Toph picked up her cellphone and dialed it into the intercom frequency for privacy.

"Yeah?" she asked heavily.

"Miss Katara is waking. What are your instructions?"

For a second Toph actually pulled up blank before she smiled to herself. _Finally, a comrade in arms…_

"Suki!" she hollered, gaining the other woman's attention (meanwhile on the other end of the intercom, the Boulder cringed and tapped his ear to see if it was still functional). Suki looked up at Toph and felt her guard go up instantly at the other woman's chuckling. "How do you feel about girly spas and guacamole?"

* * *

**TBC.**

AN: Thank you for reading! (And I apologise for the lack of Zuko--he will be back soon.)  
AN: I was going to add more to this chapter, sorry, but I wanted to make sure I got an update in before the end of the month. (I start my new job next week; not sure how that's going to affect my time for the next 6-8 weeks or so.)

/mm. This chapter first posted 11 Sept 2008.


	24. Chapter 24

**Author: moor / beyondthemoor on LJ  
Title: Merits  
Part : Twenty three  
Genre: Romance/humour/vamp/Modern AU  
Fandom: Avatar: TLA  
Pairing: Zutara, Jetara  
Length: words, approx... forgot to count this time, sorry! Eeps.  
Rating: M  
Disclaimer : "Avatar: The Last Airbender" and all related rights belong to their original creators… I am not among their ranks.  
AN: In response to hyperoo' s vampire/Zutara challenge, I present…**

* * *

**Part Twenty three**

Jet stared at his cell phone in irritation for the hundredth time since he'd woken that morning.

_Where is she? _

Huffing under his breath, he accepted the coffee cup from the concession truck and started back towards the plant for the second half of his shift Sunday morning, taking care not to slip on the random icy patches hidden beneath the fresh snow. Spring just couldn't come soon enough.

"Something wrong?" the now-familiar voice inquired from just behind him.

The shaggy-haired young man glared over his shoulder at the unwelcome stranger who'd made a habit of coming to bother him at work for the past month. His face conveyed his impatience and he tried to shake the man off.

"No."

He moved purposefully faster, not stopping.

"Are you sure? Perhaps I'd be able to be of some assistance. You're worried about someone, correct? The lovely dark-haired young woman you spend your time with?"

"What?" Jet whirled on the man now, and forced himself to reign in his temper. It was a war to control the furious suspicions that suddenly raced through his mind, though. _How did this guy know about Katara? What does he know?_ Automatically Jet scanned the street and vicinity for any indication this was a trick. Finding none, he unleashed his anger on the man, his lips curling back from his teeth until they were bared. "Where do you get off talking to someone like that? And how would you know? Are you stalking me? Why are you constantly following me around?" It was reaching a breaking point.

The man in the long, slime-green coat put his hands up in a peaceful gesture before him, and looked down at the ground a moment, appearing almost contrite at his preposterous behaviour. When he knew that he had Jet's undivided attention, Long Feng hid a smile before schooling his face into an impassive, well-meaning look of compassion.

"I am an old acquaintance, family friend if you will, of your lady's," the vampire lord said and folded his hands together in front of him, inside the long, gaping sleeves of his coat. "I am merely concerned about her well-being."

"Well you can go home, everything's fine," he barked the curt words bitterly; clearly everything was not fine. Why was she not returning his calls again? He'd checked her apartment and she hadn't been home since Friday; she hadn't gone to his place in the meantime; he had no way of reaching her friends… His head spinning with concern and frustration, Jet realized he was ignoring the man who waited patiently for either an apology or a polite dismissal. _You're in deep trouble if he really _is_ a family friend and you blew him off_, a voice inside him whispered in caution.

Biting off a growl, Jet ran his free hand through his hair and looked over the man before him again.

"How long did you say you'd known Katara?" he asked with gruff curiosity, sizing the man up in a glance. He didn't look like the type Katara normally associated with.

"Oh, we've known each other since before she was born; it's been a while since we talked face to face, though. I don't even know if she'd recognize me now compared to back then," Long Feng's mouth quirked in a half-smile. "Our families have known each other for generations."

Still unsure, Jet took a sip of his coffee and considered the man's words.

_Bad news_, screamed his inner-voice. _Stay away!_

Jet took another sip, feeling the steam warm his frost-reddened cheeks. Considering.

Feigning a chill from the cold, the vampire gave a shiver. "Well, I just wanted to stop by to let you know I saw Katara leave that dance club Friday night with her friends; I know how careless she can be sometimes and how she always forgot to call her family when she was young to let them know she was staying out… So I'm here to reassure you she is fine. She is with friends. They seemed to know each other well; they were very… close."

With that bit of bait dangling behind him, Long Feng turned to bid adieu to his prey.

"Have a good day," he said pleasantly, and with a short bow he started on his way again.

The rabbit watched the fox walk away.

"Wait!" called Jet against his better judgment. His eyes narrowing, brow tightening, he felt his heart squeeze at the possibility someone knew more about Katara's whereabouts than he did; that they may know how to contact her. That the person before him may be able to help him find her, confirm she really was fine.

"Yes?"

"Who… Who did you see her with again? The other night?" he asked casually, but Long Feng recognized the desperate hunger in the young man's eyes. _Really, this is too easy,_ he thought to himself but his face was a mask of happiness at being able to help a new acquaintance.

"Ah yes, I believe it was her new colleague from work."

"Colleague from work?" _She doesn't have any new girlfriends from work_, thought Jet, _not that she's mentioned. Unless it's…_

His eyebrows lifted in understanding, and Long Feng clasped the opportunity to plant the seed.

"Yes, his name was Zuko Sozin, I believe. Strange, I hadn't realized they were as close as they were last night… Well, I suppose sharing an office, every day, does bring friends—excuse me, colleagues—closer together. Is there anything else I can do for you, young man?" asked the vampire, suddenly the model of concern when he saw the emotions flashing across Jet's face. "You seem a bit-."

"I'm fine. Thanks for letting me know she got home ok." _Headache. Headache. Spin, dizzy. Where's the Aspirin? _Jet's vision swam a moment and he stood very still to calm the accusations his subconscious hurled at him mercilessly. _What the hell… they hate each other… Why would they?... But he could be lying… But what if he isn't?..._

Long Feng nodded and with another short nod in Jet's direction he departed in his usual slow, deliberate stride.

The end-of-break signal blew and the workers around Jet tromped back inside the factory, stomping out cigarettes and tossing their empty coffee cups in the trash bin on their way in.

Within his fingers' grasp Jet felt the coffee he held slowly cooling, and the snow begin to fall again, a heavy, silent blanket to smother the city.

* * *

_The next afternoon._

Things were not going well.

Zuko stared at Suki with forced patience while she in turn glared at him with open mistrust in the parking lot outside Katara's apartment building.

For her part, Katara pulled her coat tighter around herself and shuffled a bit from one foot to the other. "Just lemme know when you two are finished your stare-down; I'm ready to go inside _any_ time now…" she muttered and blew warm air into her hands.

The other two didn't move. In fact, they acted like they hadn't heard her.

"Ugh," shaking her head angrily, Katara stalked off on her own towards the main entrance of her building. She had no idea why her friends were acting so strange—or when exactly she'd started considering them both 'friends'—but it was ridiculous how they were treating each other. And why were they so worried about her returning to her apartment? Did they think it had magically grown booby-traps overnight?

Well, over two nights.

Sunday afternoon was dark and overcast, her residence looming like a gray-coloured doyen amongst the other dwellings of her neighbourhood. It had taken a lot of negotiation when Zuko had called her the day before, but she'd managed to convince Suki and Toph that Zuko wasn't the monster she'd originally led them to believe (Katara was mature enough to admit ruefully most of that misconception was due to her own string of complaints and allegations against him).

But the trio hadn't had a warm reunion at Suki's car that afternoon, and the outdoor temperature was the least of the problem.

She was already at the elevator before Zuko and Suki arrived behind her in a rush.

Breathing harshly, they didn't speak to her or each other and simply waited coldly for their ride to Katara's floor.

"Did you kiss and make up?" she asked, rolling her eyes as she boarded the elevator at its familiar _ding_ when the doors opened.

When she looked back at her companions as they stepped in behind her, she couldn't help it, she laughed out loud at their evident suffering at being in each other's presence. A nasty little part of her felt a teeny smidge of satisfaction at their discomfort. _Serves them right for treating me like a five year old who doesn't know her way home,_ she thought to herself.

Zuko whirled and prepared to leap to Katara's aid when they reached her apartment door and she turned the key in the knob and suddenly gasped.

"Oh my--!"

"What? What is it?" he demanded, pushing her away from the doorway and putting himself directly between her and the panels. Suki automatically took up station between them and the nearest exit.

_Is she covering our _flank_,_ wondered Katara incredulously? But she'd had enough.

"I see overreacting people," she stage-whispered, and rolled her eyes again. "Really, would you two quit it? It's getting old…"

With that she turned the key completely, nudged past Zuko and walked into the apartment, leaving her bodyguards in the hall.

Zuko and Suki exchanged another look of suffering, though its cause had veered slightly from the original trigger…

"Entryway, fine!" called Katara as they walked through the apartment. And it was. The pair behind her were more cautious and observant as they followed her through.

"Kitchen's clear!" she called next, slightly sarcastically.

"Living room & dining room – heavily infested with _nothing_!"

"Den, just peachy!" Her tone took a slightly pissed-off edge, but they'd been expecting her to lose her temper at the babysitting by this point and weren't surprised.

"Spare bedroom / office, absolutely great!"

"Main bedroom," she declared with finality, approaching it in angry stomps, "wanna come see the main event with me?" she called in irritation, pausing with her hand on the door. The other two were still peeking into each room making sure nothing had been (obviously) disturbed. They were two rooms away from Katara when Suki's phone went off.

Annoyed at the disturbance, the slayer answered it impatiently, "Hey, this is not a good—."

Zuko could already hear the caller's panicked tone, though, and was already flying down the hallway to stop Katara.

"_DON'T LET HER IN THAT ROOM—THE WARDS HAVE BEEN TAMPERED WI—"_

Suki's eyes went wide as Toph's warning connected, and she was running to join Zuko – until the explosion jolted the suite, ignited the walls surrounding her, separating her from the other two and turning the entire hallway into an inferno.

"Zuko!" she called, already tying a handkerchief around her face to protect herself from the fumes. The phonecall was completely forgotten. There was no answer to her call. "_Zu-ko!_" she screamed louder, and tucked her head into her shoulder to keep from coughing on the inhale.

She thought she heard him call back to her, but the noise of the fire was too loud to tell for sure.

_We need to get her out of here. We need to get out of here._ Thinking rationally, Suki remembered the exits and decided on an escape route before starting forward, an inch at a time to try and help collect Katara—she wasn't surprised to find the flames were enchanted, and rose higher and towards her as she approached the fire's ignition point. As she fell back, the flames receded. She reached forward and the tongues of fire leapt fiercely up her forearm towards her face. _Definitely enchanted flames. This fire isn't meant to hurt Katara_, she realized, _it is meant to isolate her._

It isn't to kill her, it's a trap.

Her rapidly firing neurons then realized that if it was a trap, someone was coming to collect the prey. Someone like…

Long Feng.

SHIT.

"Why hasn't the alarm started yet?" she mumbled, and backed away to the door to keep a look out. The fire was real enough even if it was enchanted – some of the hallway carpet had melted already and the walls were going black.

And then she saw the smoke detectors' wires were hanging limply from the ceiling, their units completely removed. How they'd missed them, she'd never know, but it made sense now.

_The rest of the tenants_, she realized again. _The innocent people…_

Smoke stung Suki's dark eyes and she felt the dampness on her cheeks as she grit her teeth and came to a decision.

Zuko would have to protect Katara.

She had to evacuate the building.

With a final glance back towards the hallway to Katara's room, the slayer put her faith in a disgraced vampire prince and plunged through the apartment door in search of a fire alarm she could pull to physically summon the fire department. She was dialing 9-1-1 on her phone at the same time, but wasn't sure which would get through first. Finally, her call made it through to the dispatch and she told them what was happening before hearing a crash from the apartment. There was no more time. She flipped the phone shut and knew the brigade wouldn't get there in time if the tenants didn't start moving now.

"Come on, Zuko, Katara…" she prayed, and yanked the first bright-red metal fire-alarm she found. The raucous clamour erupted and filled her with relief, but she knew her job wasn't finished yet. Ripping her make-shift mask from her face, Suki ran down the hall pounding on the doors on either side of Katara's apartment.

"There's a fire in the unit beside yours! Get out!" she screamed, repeating it at every door.

As some heads started peeking out she pointed the tenants in the direction of the stairwells and ran to the floor above to do the same…

"No more innocents," she repeated the mantra to herself as her legs pumped up the stairs of their own freewill, "no more innocents…"

* * *

"Katara!" Zuko yelled angrily, furious with himself he hadn't followed her more closely. She'd gone down this hallway, her room must be just around the corner. He wasn't sure what he'd find once he got to her. She'd been closest to the blast's point of origin. His stomach curled faintly at his imagination and he stopped the images cold. "Katara, where are you?"

He came across the door to her room and found her boot. But no sign of her yet.

She had crossed the threshold.

Growling deep in his throat, he kicked what was left of the door out of his way and rushed in, hunched over to stay below the smoke in order to see as clearly as he could.

He found her unconscious near the window, her hand reaching towards the bookcase by her nightstand.

It only took a moment and a thought to crack the window, and then smash out the top pane to let the smoke exit the room; in the next moment he scooped the immobile woman into his arms and started carrying her bridal-style towards the apartment door. Katara's eyes flickered and she moaned at the motion, uncomfortable.

"It's Zuko," he said after a moment. "We're getting out of here."

"Book…"

"No time."

"… book…. Legends…" she insisted, and started struggling, half-consciously in his grasp. "… need the book…"

Grunting viciously, he leapt back to the bookcase in a single bound and held her upright, balancing her on his knee as he kneeled in front of it. "Where's the book, we don't have much time," he demanded, and gave her a quick shake to revive her as much as he dared. He wasn't lying, either – he could hear the roar and hiss and popping of the flames as they licked ever closer.

"Very old book… Hardcover…" she coughed, her words breaking up to the point he could barely make out what she said.

_She's losing, she needs fresh air fast_, he noted, and also took in her bruised temple and the way one of her arms was held at a funny angle. She couldn't seem to open her eyes enough to look for the book, however.

_Useless_. A bitter taste filled his mouth.

With a jerk of his head, Zuko looked at the first shelf and with the precision and speed of a supercomputer read every book's title, condition, and placement. Some had been knocked loose on to the floor, leaving gaps. He moved on to the second shelf when he didn't find a tome matching her description. Still no luck. On to the bottom, last shelf. Not there. With a frustrated noise he shifted Katara in his arms and gave a last-ditch examination of the floor – and saw a tattered page peeking out from beneath a stack of romance novels that had tumbled out of their shelves, probably from the blast.

"Is it this one?" he asked, yanking the book of Water Tribe Legends from the stack. But Katara was completely out.

Taking her silence as agreement he pulled her athletic frame tightly against him and tucked her head into his shoulder.

"Hold on tight," he said, in case she could hear, and, gathering himself, he took a quick crouch to ready and then launched himself into the hellish hallway.

"We'll be out soon," he promised into her ear, and raced into the main living room of the apartment to the doorway. The flames had started into this room now, too.

"We'll be out soon.".

The parking lot was a mess of people when he emerged, but try as he might, he couldn't find Suki.

Stopping briefly by his car for a moment, he beeped the doors open and lay Katara down in the passenger seat to pull out his phone; he glanced at her, at the car, at the people milling about, always scanning the crowd for an unfortunately familiar face.

"Zuko, what happened?" Aang's voice was calm, but tightly controlled when he answered on the first ring.

"Katara's apartment blew up," admitted Zuko unhappily. "They knew we were coming. The wards had been breached. How did Toph not know?" he demanded.

"How's Katara?"

"She's fine. How could they have breached the wards?" he insisted. Witchcraft wasn't his specialty; they needed Toph's input on this one. She had set the original wards; she was the only one attuned-enough to figure out why they had failed. "And where should I bring Katara? I think she has smoke inhalation; her arm doesn't look right… and she has a bump on her head," he recited, and glanced at her a moment to see if he'd forgotten anything.

Which was when he noticed, after a moment or two, that she wasn't breathing.

"Katara," he said, and leaned down to give her (good) arm a shake. "Katara, wake up. Aang's on the phone," he said tersely, and could hear the other man getting panicky.

"Zuko, what's wrong? What's going on?" The young man's voice tightened.

"Katara," he repeated, firmly this time. "Katara, answer me." Long, sooty fingers reached out to gently palp the pulse-point in her wrist. Waited a moment. Let go. Her hand fell limply into her lap. She didn't stir.

Growing more concerned, his fingers focused on her exposed throat. Waited. Moved to an inch in front of her nose and mouth.

Still nothing.

Aang was completely silent at this point, which surprised Zuko.

And he realized it was because he couldn't hear anything.

He glanced over at the ambulances and fire engines. The throngs of people. The chaos. Not a single sound. _Had the fire damaged his hearing?_

And then he looked back at the woman who wasn't breathing, who had no pulse, who wasn't responding to anything he did.

_How bad is she?... She can't be gone yet, can she?... _

A dread, desperate chill washed through the vampire.

Summoning a deep-rooted power, Zuko closed his eyes a moment and let his peripheral sense roam. Dangerous, yes. Leaving him vulnerable, absolutely. But he had to know for sure.

The sense extended, tuned out vision, touch, and taste; it reached outwards from his body like an echo to bounce against the lifeforce closest to him.

_Come on, Katara, keep fighting…_

Still nothing. He tuned out his own heartbeat, slowed the flow of his own internal states, and listened as hard as he could. He stopped breathing, and waited.

...A heartbeat.

Faint, and possibly just an echo of its last beats, but there it was. Relief flooded him, but only briefly.

Because, at the same time, he'd heard the approaching footsteps of a dozen vampire footsoldiers.

Long Feng was bringing his personal guard.

"Aang," said Zuko, finally swinging the cellphone back to his ear again. "You need to get back-up for Suki. Right now. I can't find her." His voice was tense, but deadly calm. This had been a divide and conquer retrieval mission.They couldn't keep playing into it.

Aang didn't answer.

"Aang," he repeated angrily. "Did you hear me?"

"… please…" there was a muffled sound, and Zuko realized Aang had been covering the receiver. "Just tell me she's ok," he said hoarsely.

"She's gonna be fine," lied the vampire, "but Suki's dead if you don't get some help for her here within the next…" he thought again about the sound of the equal, methodical, military-precise footsteps of the guard. "Look, if she lasts five minutes against them she's the greatest slayer in history. Make sure you write that on her tombstone," he snapped, and hung up.

Really, the young man had completely let his personal feelings interfere with his job, he thought of Aang, and Zuko was now alone and knew he couldn't take Katara to the trained medical professionals on the other side of the parking lot since that was where the foot' were expecting her, preparing to abduct her, lying in wait for her. He wanted to scream and kick in frustration, but knew it was neither the time nor the place. Katara was his priority. He had to get her someplace safe... But no one had told him where Toph's compound was. He wasn't exactly a 'trusted' acquaintance yet.

At least Toph hadn't let Aang join them that afternoon; the man would have been a total liability, he realized as he was already strapping Katara securely into her seatbelt. He slammed the door shut and vaulted overtop of the car to slide into the driver's seat, ignoring the looks of surprise from a few stragglers who wandered past.

Jamming his key into the ignition, he ignored all rules of traffic safety and gunned the engine, tearing a strip out of the slushy parking lot as he burned away.

"Sorry Suki," he mumbled, "but good luck."

He didn't notice the chopper flying in to land at the far end of the parking lot, or the other that hovered just on the horizon and sped full tilt to meet the first.

The sky itself had darkened further as Zuko steered onto the expressway and floored the accelerator in the direction of his home.

Aang's (imagined) tortured face popped into his head again and he scoffed at the image.

Really, he, _Zuko_, was the one who should be upset, he talked to himself as he drove, weaving wildly between the cars that inconsiderately blocked the fast lane as he happened upon them at a casual 140 mph. _He_ was the one who should be allowed to fall apart, or get sympathy. He was, not Aang.

Because he was the one who was about to lose his soulmate again if he didn't so something drastic very soon.

Prying his hand off the shift knob he started unbottoning his shirt. He prayed she'd make it to his place.

* * *

TBC.

AN: Thank you for reading!  
AN: As always, I apologise for the delays -- new job, new car, new everything kind of had me hit the ground running through September!

/this chap first posted Oct 3 2008.


	25. Chapter 25

**Author: moor / beyondthemoor on LJ  
Title: Merits  
Part : Twenty four  
Genre: Romance/humour/vamp/Modern AU  
Fandom: Avatar: TLA  
Pairing: Zutara, Jetara  
Length: 5500 words, approx...  
Rating: M  
Disclaimer : "Avatar: The Last Airbender" and all related rights belong to their original creators… I am not among their ranks.  
AN: In response to hyperoo' s vampire/Zutara challenge, I present…  
**

* * *

History. Herstory. Our story.

* * *

**Part Twenty four  
**

"This is the one who's to become our Maiden? But…" the Crone's voice lowered perceptibly, "how is she to have the visions?..."

"The prophecies told that someday the Coven would have a blind Maiden and she would still have visions."

"But that was one of the doomsday prophecies – the oldest, the core of our Arcana!" exclaimed another.

The young girl stood a little aside, listening but not speaking. She wasn't to speak unless spoken to. How often they'd drilled that into her, along with her manners, her schooling, her nannies constantly smothering her…

"It was said that when we'd face our darkest hours, a blind maiden would save us. She will find those to stand with, she will protect the light, and she will know the right path."

There were murmurs from the group, and still she stood alone, listening.

"Does she have the gift? Training? Can she learn?"

The little girl's hands clenched.

"Does she need help looking after herself? Should we get her an attendant?"

Her cheek twitched and her teeth ground together behind tight lips.

"Aunt Wu, you are our Crone, what will you have us do? Shall we send her back? We don't even know if she understands her position, her role. Perhaps we won't need a Maiden; we won't be impotent—."

That was the last straw.

The little girl's head tipped back and she stuck out her chin proudly. It was time to teach these old bats a lesson.

The petite girl threw out her arms to either side, fisting her fingers, and then brought them together fiercely before her as she lunged forward.

Every window exploded, lightning crashed outside thought it was a beautiful afternoon, and the earth rumbled before a chasm erupted outside the front door, effectively separating the building like a moat from the countryside beyond.

Above the shouts of surprise & a few screams of terror, Toph Bei Fong smiled.

"Now that I have your attention," she declared casually, standing again. "Perhaps we can start talking about how you're all gonna start doing as I say."

Jun, the 'Mother' (though she had no children) of their Maiden, Mother, Crone council, smirked and finally spoke for the first time that afternoon.

"She's the one." A few leisurely strides brought her before the tiny magical powerhouse, and she leaned forward to take and shake Toph's hands. "Welcome. You're Toph, right?"

"Yes."

"How about I call you Toph-inator?"

Toph smiled happily. "I kinda like that."

A friendship was born; and a legend was made.

Aunt Wu, for her part, brought a hand to her head as her own 'visions' filled with how much trouble the new pair were no doubt soon to start unleashing…

* * *

"You need to learn not to expend so much energy," said Jun, and Toph thought it sounded like Jun had her arms and legs crossed again in front of her. The younger woman had overdone it in practice that morning and her arms and legs were numb while her heart seared in her chest. "Remember," lectured Jun not unkindly but with a hint of exasperation, "magic isn't unrooted, it is balanced. What you take to use you need to replenish. Energy is everywhere, but you need to learn how to balance what you take and what you use."

"Does everybody feel like this when they overuse their magic & energy reserves?" she gasped, clutching at her shirt as if it would release the pressure on her chest cavity.

Toph heard Jun chuckle slightly. "You're the only one I've ever seen survive to this point; you have more raw talent than any witch I've ever met. You just don't understand the sheer extent of your magical strength – you need to temper yourself a bit and learn some control. Too much raw talent is just as bad as too little talent."

Still breathing harshly, Toph pushed herself up and felt her bangs brush the top of her head. "So I need a deeper, richer energy source to really spread my wings, huh? To see my full 'potential'?"

Jun glanced over at the young woman thoughtfully.

* * *

"Hi, I'm Katara, Sokka's sister. Sokka told me to look you up when I arrived here for camp," the girl sounded about her age, and Toph felt someone with soft, but strong hands reach out to grasp her hand in hers to shake it. "Sorry if I'm putting you out of your way. Sokka said he was sorry he'd be at basic training when I'd first arrive. He wants to follow our dad into the military. You made a real impression on him when he met you last year," she chuckled. "Is it really true you tricked him into armwrestling and won?"

The corner of Toph's mouth quirked up. "I couldn't let an engineering student outdo a native wrestler. He was just lucky it was me instead of my old pal Jun. She'd have made him buy her a drink."

"He was only sixteen!" gaped the visitor, and Toph thought she heard her spew out the water she'd been drinking.

"Jun overlooks the petty stuff."

There was a pause.

Then Katara was laughing, and Toph joined in, and finally, Toph thought she'd found a friend who'd like her for who she was, not what she was.

* * *

He kept a tight hold on her hand, threading his fingers through hers to make sure they wouldn't lose each other in the over-sold bar.

"Stay close!" Sokka called back to her, and she could tell he was smiling, excited.

Jostled by the crowd, Toph nearly fell when a large man carelessly turned and shoved her out of the way.

"Oomph," she grunted, and turned to 'glare' at him, feeling the familiar, warm power rise within her and crackle down to her fingertips. "Hey, watchit you--."

"Uh, Toph, look!" interrupted Sokka, yanking her closer to him and up against his chest while he pointed to a random spot in the distant crowd. "Sorry 'bout that," he said to the man who was hulking over them. "My bad!" The man shuffled away and Toph felt Sokka's breath whoosh out of his lungs.

"Sorry about that," he said again, but to her this time, his mouth against her ear so she could hear him. "I should have been watching. I invited you out tonight!"

With that, he picked her up and carried her, moving through the herds of people until he reached the very front of the stage where the metal fencing kept the crowds a few short meters from the stage. Here he let Toph down and put her hands on the fence in front of them, and stood behind her, encircling his own arms around her. He'd come back from his basic training in perfect physical condition. It still surprised her, pleasantly, though she'd never admit it. She couldn't let him know what she really thought of him, now. He'd never speak to her again.

Just then, Toph's favourite bad, the _Rough Rhinos_, strode onto the stage causing the crowds to go crazy and surge forward.

"Hold on tight and don't let go!" Sokka half-yelled, half-laughed in her ear, and she realized he was bracing himself around her so she wouldn't get squashed by the moshing mass behind them.

"I won't!" she hollered back, but it was lost in the cheers and screaming behind them.

His warm arms surrounding her, her back pushed up against his chest, the feel of his breath over her head & shoulders when he'd glance down to check on her, Toph would never forget how amazing it felt that night. She felt the warmth flood her cheeks and she bit her lip to keep from smiling too widely at all the excitement. She was finally being treated like a real, normal girl.

But what she wouldn't forget, either, was the surge of magic, power, energy that rocketed through the room when the band started playing the first riffs of their latest hit song.

Her eyes went huge, a wave built and crested inside her, her back went rigid and Toph screamed as the power filled her to overflow and explode, like a mega-watt of ecstasy, deep in her core. If she hadn't had the fencing to grab hold of, she would have fallen to her knees as the aftershocks rocked through her slight frame.

_This power_, she thought numbly, and leaned back against Sokka for support, _this is from the crowd's excitement… This feeling… I could do anything with my magic right now…So powerful…_

"Y'ok?" asked Sokka with concern. Toph wasn't one to lean on anyone. And… had that really been what he thought it'd been going through her a moment ago? _Holy crow… Don't do anything, she's way too young, _his conscience railed at him. _At least wait until she's 18 you horny toad…_He couldn't let her know what he thought of her; she'd never speak to him again…

"I'm fantastic," she sighed, and knew exactly how she was going to get the energy she needed to seize her full magical potential.

* * *

"Great show tonight, Toph!" Sokka clapped her on the back as if she were one of his buddies. "That crowd just didn't stop!"

Hiding her insulted pride behind a reciprocating slap that nearly sent him flying, Toph grinned back. "Toldja I was good."

"I can't believe how amazing you are sometimes," he admitted sheepishly and rubbed the back of his head. Her skill, and how many different things she was good at, period, intimidated him more and more. "I feel like I'm lagging behind at times. Or holding you back."

As Toph tossed her backpack into her car where the Boulder waited patiently to take her home, she stopped a moment and turned her head towards her closest friend, her energy high from finishing such a successful guest appearance as the 'Blind Bandit' wavering and clouding her mind. It always felt so good to load up on the crowds' energy. And now here her best friend was, trying to pull her down?

"What are you talking about, meathead? You're the one in university. I'm the one that has to catch up to you – and you know I'm not interested in the school-thing right now."

Shaking his head, Sokka smiled patiently, and walked towards her to pull her jacket shut.

"Nothing. You keep warm, they say we're due snow tonight." His hands rested on the lapels of her coat a second longer than they needed to before he let go.

Planting a quick, decidedly paternal kiss on her forehead he turned to walk away, footsteps crunching on the fallen autumn leaves. The air was sharp and cold and she could feel the promise of snowflakes on it, just as he'd said. As he walked away from her.

Anger exploded within the petite woman and her cheeks flared crimson.

"Now you wait a cotton-picking minute, Sokka Kuruk!" she screamed, and chased after him.

* * *

"I'm not teaching you that," stated Jun coldly.

"It's not a big deal, I can handle it," insisted Toph.

"They never work out, trust me, and it is better to leave things like that to the natural order. Magic should never interfere with personal feelings. You know that, Toph. It's one of the first rules I ever taught you."

"Pssshht, you never taught me any rules," the young woman blew her bags up out of her face and folded her arms in front of her.

"I taught you what was right and wrong," countered the experienced 'Mother'. "Now don't ever ask me about this again. And I _will_ find out if you ask any of the others."

The threat was unnecessary, and they both knew it, since Toph would never be comfortable asking anyone else about how to perform a love spell.

* * *

It hadn't been obvious, the first time they'd met.

More like a growing recognition over time, as gradual as when night dawned to morning, the colours shifting and melting together before turning into a beautiful, clear blue sky. Day comes, and in light one can see the world laid out before them.

_You're the one_, Toph felt it so deep in her bones as she listened to her best girl friend laugh at her brother's ridiculous antics as he and her boyfriend tried to get the Christmas tree righted in Toph's condo living room. _You're the one who's going to save the world. _She knew it with complete certainty.

As the tree fell over again, this time pinning Sokka to the wall and Aang apologized and tried to figure out how to lift the oversize conifer off him, Toph felt both peace and anxiety war for dominance, before accepting peace.

Beside her Katara rose from the box of decorations and overflowing bowls of popcorn she'd been turning into garlands, and she went to help brace the tree.

_You're the one. And I'm the one._

The prophecy was coming true.

* * *

"So, this is my new place!"

Going by the way the air around them moved in a rush, Toph wondered if her friend had thrown her arms out proudly to show how amazing the place was. Toph owned the building and already knew – hence why Katara was getting such a strangely fantastic rate for rent – but she thought it best to act surprised anyway.

"I love what you've done with the decorating!" the petite woman exclaimed.

"Yeah, it took me ages to get the wallpaper down, but the light-coloured walls have totally opened the place up—," she stopped short. "I'm not Sokka."

"Heh, you still fell for it."

* * *

The others, Sokka, Aang, Katara and Jet, were in the living room chatting about Aang's travels and how reassuring it was to finally be back in Katara's apartment eating 'home-cooked' meals again.

Toph was on a 'bathroom break'; really, she was snooping in Katara's room and grumbling about having to re-tune the wards to add another 'safe' person.

There was something about Jet that wasn't sitting right with her; but if he was the one Katara wanted, she had to make sure she wouldn't accidentally kill him with an over-protective ward charm.

She tilted her head to the side. Then again, she was getting a funny feeling off the guy…

_Katara will cry_, her inner-voice warned her. _That's time away from earning energy that you have to expend on girly guacamole spa nights._

The ward was re-tuned, re-sealed and put back in place within a few minutes.

"Toph, are you ok in there?" Sokka called from the hallway. He sounded awkwardly concerned. "Is something not, uh… sitting well?" he hedged.

"I'm just fine, meatbag," she called back in a huff. "Can't a girl get some privacy?"

"Sorry!" he called back quickly, and she heard him patter back to the living room with his tail between his legs.

Checking all the wards one last time as she meandered back to her friends, she flopped onto the sofa beside her boyfriend and gave him a loving kidney punch.

* * *

"The back-up's already on its way to Suki," said Aang, grabbing his jacket and hers, too, as they strode towards the awaiting helicopter. "Zuko said the wards had been tampered with, though, and that's why things went--."

"They couldn't have been tampered with," said Toph, grabbing her jacket from him and shoving her arms through the wildly-flapping garment. The rotors atop the chopper were already swinging 'round bringing up a strong wind that pushed against them.

"Zuko said as soon as she touched them, they--."

"I know, I felt it!" she yelled.

"So who could have--."

"Only someone who was tuned into them," she explained in basic terms, to make sure he understood, "could have even touched the ward without it killing them instantly. As for who knew how to reverse their 'polarity'…"

They hauled themselves into the cockpit while Hee Po handed them each a headset. Slamming the 'pit door shut, they were airborne in seconds.

"So you're saying it was one of us who messed with the wards?" asked Aang over the headset radio. His voice held a great deal of incredulity – and just a hint of suspicion.

"You didn't do it; I didn't do it. Zuko isn't tuned into it, so he couldn't have done it. Katara doesn't even know about it, so she couldn't have done it; and Sokka hasn't left the compound since our big talk, so he didn't do it, either." The list was fairly short.

Aang was quiet a moment, considering.

"How many male witches are in the coven?" he asked quietly.

"Jet isn't one of them," she answered.

"But he's the only one left who was keyed into it, right?"

"He's not a witch. I don't know what he is, since I've gotten the not-human vibe off him since the moment we met, but he's not a witch."

"…Can you make them not love each other?"

The headset crackled, and his words didn't come through without a great deal of distortion, but even over the loud mechanical grinding of engine and rotors, Toph heard the request clearly.

"I wish I could," she said, remembering Jun's words. "Believe me."

* * *

As he stood there watching the black and grey smoke billowing out of her bedroom window in the bitterly cold afternoon, Jet wondered.

He wondered if Katara was ok.

He wondered why Long Feng had asked him to collect from Katara's room the little decoration the older man had said he'd given Katara, and then why the same man had asked him to go put it back later.

He wondered, most of all, why it had been Zuko who'd rushed from the building with Katara, _his_ girlfriend, cradled in his arms and why he'd raced away in his car without taking her to see a paramedic first.

And he wondered why the other man wasn't picking up his calls now, either. Just like Katara hadn't.

Jet kept his hands in his pocket and felt around for the familiar cellphone. He'd gotten it after first seeing Katara at the centre, and wanting to have a way to contact her, to have her contact him. He'd turned his life around for her.

_And now…_

He pulled it out and flipped patiently, one by one, through each of the numbers in the phone's memory until he reached the one he was looking for.

Long Feng seemed to be the one in the know about Katara at this point, and Zuko.

"Hi, Mr. Feng?" he said, and turned towards his home. "Do you have a few minutes?"

* * *

Suki's breath heaved in her chest, and she felt rather than saw the remaining soldiers surround her.

She had taken out at least a third of them, but she was still outnumbered by a discouraging margin.

Again, she sent out the silent prayer than Zuko had found Katara in time; that the soldiers were trying to keep her busy instead of helping her charge escape; because if they were fighting her they obviously hadn't retrieved Katara yet, or they would have left.

That, or they had been told the slayer was their prime target.

Lifting the bloody fans back up to protect her front and side, both of which were bleeding, Suki straightened as much as she could and tried to come up with a new strategy to defeat the vampires around her.

In the background she heard the first helicopter approach but didn't dare shift her attention to it.

The vampires around her circled tighter, and started closing in.

Suki took a deep breath; then she swept to the side like a whirlwind, slashing and taking out another two soldiers before breaking through their perimeter and running for freedom. If she could just space them out so she was fighting them one on one instead of as a group, she had a chance to escape, to live.

But these soldiers weren't stupid; they re-formed their group and followed as an organized unit, not a band of independent mercenaries like she was used to engaging.

Her feet dragging in the slushy snow on the ground, Suki rounded a corner of the building and gasped at the pain in her side. Unable to keep running full-tilt, she put an arm around her stomach and another on the wall to steady herself. Her blood was probably leaving a trail for them to follow, if not by sight then by scent. It wasn't hopeless yet, but it was definitely approaching that desperate border.

Through her sharp blue eyes she looked up and saw another organized unit of soldiers coming closer, at a dead run, but this time from in front of her.

"Vamp reinforcements?" she wheezed. She'd been wrong. It was definitely hopeless now.

She turned to lean her back against the wall, breathing hard through her mouth, ignoring the blood stiffening on her clothes. Raising the blades of her fans she noted they weren't coming up as high as she wanted them to. And they weren't as steady as they usually were. But still, she wasn't going to stop fighting.

The sound of footsteps from both directions got louder and louder, and Suki kept darting her head from one side to the other, trying to figure out which side would reach her first.

Just as the last group of vamps she'd been fighting rounded the corner, she caught clear sight of the reinforcements who lifted their weapons – _weapons?_ she wondered – and pointed them.

Straight at the vampires she'd been fighting.

Her heart clutched in her chest. _Could these be...?_

"Suki, get down!" she heard Sokka yell, and she dropped to the ground as he led his troops to engage the vampire guard. Hunched over she moved to the rear of the guard to catch her breath before returning to the fight.

The last thing she remembered before she passed out from blood-loss was Sokka's bright blue eyes smiling down at her while letting her know they'd won.

"But what about Katara?" she asked, but he didn't hear her.

* * *

_In the meantime.  
_  
The Audi squealed to a stop in the garage, the automatic door already closing behind him.

The vampire prince activated his security system on the keypad before he opened his door, and before he heard it beep into activation had already flown around to Katara's side.

Unbuckling and picking her up, he noted her heartbeat and pulse had both stopped. She had ceased breathing a few minutes before. He refused to give up, though.

_I'm not losing you again,_ he vowed.

He rushed from the garage up the stairs to his bedroom and placed her on the bed before straightening & stripping the rest of his shirt off and taking a few deep, calming breaths.

He lay down overtop of her, taking care to balance his weight on his elbows and legs and not on her.

"Looks like we're back to this again," he whispered to her, reaching his hand up to his neck. With a thought his nails sharpened to claws and he didn't bother flinching to break the skin at the base of his throat.

Balancing his weight mostly on one elbow, he pulled her head up to him, and placed her mouth over the wound on his neck when the blood seeped up.

"You'll forgive me later, right?" he wanted to ask her, but with his arm around her, what he wanted most of all wasn't her forgiveness, it was just to hear her heart beat again. Night fell outside the windows.

Downstairs in his garage, in his car, his cellphone buzzed again and again, unknown to him.

When he felt he'd given her enough of his lifeblood, he bent his head forward and held onto Katara, turning onto his side, and then his back and pulling her on top of him. He pulled the blankets up over them both and closed his eyes, rubbing his hand over her back to try and help move his blood through her cold body.

He didn't fall asleep, but the motions soothed him into a lull and he continued through the night.

It was a long, long time… but he felt it the moment it started again.

Her heart beat.

_Katara?_ His eyes opened again in the darkness and he sat up a bit, still keeping her close to his naked torso.

Another beat.

She took a breath. It shuddered, then flowed smoothly into an exhale.

_Wake up._ He pleaded, gazing at her face.

She breathed again, and her heart beat stronger.

_Wake. Up._

He felt her breath flow softly through her open mouth, over her lips that had been cracked and blistered from the fire.

The lips were smooth now, her cheeks slowly getting their colour back, her skin as clear as the day she'd been born.

Zuko couldn't pull his eyes from Katara's mouth.

The entire house was quiet, and he had no idea what time it was.

But the more he looked at her, the more he wanted her, and he felt longing grow in his belly.

Slowly, ever so slowly, his hands moved to her sides, and he pulled her up higher on him. He stifled a groan as her body slid over a particularly sensitive organ. Sitting up a bit against the headboard, he held her close and let her legs fall on either side of him, and buried his face in her hair a moment. He breathed her in, the way he hadn't been able to do in generations. Even through the smells of smoke and fire, he knew it was her.

His teeth lengthened in his mouth, and automatically his head turned to her neck.

_No, no not yet…_

Pulling back, he forced his teeth to behave themselves, even if he couldn't keep other areas of his anatomy from obeying him.

He settled his head back against the headboard, thinking.

Over a hundred years… and she was finally back in his arms again.

He closed his eyes a moment and breathed deeply.

_What would she say? Would she remember?_

_Would it come back to her, as clearly as his memories haunted him?_

"Katara?" he said in a soft, low voice. He held her close and brushed a lock of her hair from her face. "Katara, can you hear me?"

She stirred.

He sat up straighter and pulled back so he could look at her clearly, hopeful.

Katara's dark eyelids flickered then scrunched shut.

"Katara?" he repeated a third time, and brought a hand to her cheek.

Her eyes flickered again.

It was agonizing; he waited with baited breath for her to wake. Several minutes went by, but her eyes remained stubbornly shut, and her breathing evened out into sleep.

He couldn't stand it anymore. He brought his face closer to hers.

When he brought her mouth to his she moaned in her sleep, unhappy at being stirred. His lips closed over hers, sealing them together. She stopped moaning unhappily. It became the very opposite of unhappy.

_Katara_, he thought_. Finally…_

He felt her loosen in his grasp, soften, and her hands moved up, up along his still-exposed chest, under the blankets.

He deepened the kiss when he felt her tilt her head slightly and accept.

_Finally._

* * *

Katara slept and dreamed, but felt confusion, anxiety. It wasn't a restful sleep, not really. She knew she'd been hurt but now she wasn't; she was in her apartment and then she couldn't remember what happened next.

But wherever she was now, she was warm, and wanted to keep resting, but she knew she wanted something else more. She felt something growing, a heat, an expectation inside her, and she clung to it, fed it, did as it bid her to do to feel more of it move within her. It was coursing through every part of her…

It was as this warm, pleasant urge filled every inch of her that she noticed she was warm on the outside, too. Someone was holding her preciously; she was wrapped in blankets. Someone was touching her, rubbing her back and squeezing her hips, and kissing her like it was nobody's business.

A part of her brain figured out that much, but not who.

_Jet sure doesn't treat me like this_, she thought fuzzily to herself, and then felt whoever it was growl in his throat and turn them both over, until he was on top, pinning her to the mattress and sinking into her, his mouth moving from hers to nuzzle at her throat.

_This guy knows exactly what he's doing, and he's doing it all right_. Her urge became more primal, more base, and Katara felt her hips move against his of their own volition. _Oh crap, I need to wake up. I at least need to know who the hell can make me feel so good, because if this is a crazy one-night stand I will kill this guy if I never see him again._ She thought this even as she found their hands suddenly both fumbling for their trouser zippers.

Sighing, she pulled her head back and away from the man with the magic hands and opened her eyes.

Even in the dark his scar was obvious.

She choked on her next breath.

"_Zuko!?"_

* * *

Her hands were moving along his front and latched onto his fly. Breathing harshly he groaned and ground against her before helping her undo his top button, then moved on to help her remove her own pants.

_Too long, far too long,_ he thought to himself. _Just another few inches and we'll be…_

He heard her suck in her breath, and gasp.

"Zuko!?"

_Yes, and?_ He thought to himself in frustration, eyes still closed. _Come on, we were thisclose…_

The next thing he knew he was flat on his back on the floor, and he was almost sure she'd punched right through his chest it ached so badly.

"Mph," he mumbled, and lay there a moment so she wouldn't attack again. He was glad he'd landed on his back and not his front. The dull ache in his head disagreed, but the throbbing in his still-attached, confining trousers insisted.

"What the—where am I—How dare you—Just what the—."

She couldn't seem to decide on what to think or do.

But he didn't want to attract her attention too quickly either and have her land a second beating on him, so he moved slowly into a sitting position. And he stayed on the floor.

Zuko waited while she ran through all the motions of an affronted female.

As she became increasingly incoherent, he closed his eyes. Laid back down on his back on the floor. Put an arm over his eyes.

"What are you doing? How dare you go to sleep? Did you bring me here? What are you thinking? What were you planning to do? Do you know who I know? Do you know how much trouble you're going to be in when Toph finds out about this—."

"You keep the bed," he said finally, taking his arm from across his arms. "I'm going to the guest room down the hall. There's a phone beside you. Call Toph."

* * *

He rolled to his feet and walked slowly to the door, holding onto it with one hand, and turned to look at her. From where he stood, the way he was angled, all Katara saw was the un-scarred side of his profile in the semi-darkness. Some _memory? Part of her imagination?_ superimposed that unblemished profile onto the other side of his face, _but he wasn't at a solid door, he was opening a tent flap and saying goodbye to her; she was wearing animal skins and kneeling on a woven pad. _

Katara tilted her head slightly to get a better look, but the image disappeared and all that was left was a half-naked Zuko looking at her as if he wanted to eat her whole… and deep down, she started and recognized that part of her wouldn't mind that at all.

Of course he had to ruin it by opening his mouth, and it was back to normal-Zuko again.

"I'm going to leave a message on Bumi's extension that I'm sick and you're looking after me today, so we won't be in at the office for the next while. Go to bed."

With that, he turned away and she heard his light footsteps pad down the hall until a door closed with a quiet, perfunctory click. The sound of his low, raspy voice for a moment or two flowed down the hall to her, and then was silent.

Katara looked around and saw a clock that glowed _6:37_ on the bookshelf across the room.

She wanted to keep looking, but she felt like she was invading Zuko's privacy. _He brought me here, though…_

She picked up the phone receiver and dialed Toph's number. It rang straight through to her voicemail.

"Hi Toph, this is Katara. I'm with Zuko. I mean, _at _Zuko's," she corrected herself immediately and felt her neck tighten in mortification. _Slip._ "I'm going to rest here for a bit. I'll call you later. You'll have to get his number from your Caller-ID, sorry, I have no idea what it is." _Oh this is going to settle Toph's overprotective feelings _real_ well_, she thought sarcastically. "I'm fine. I'll call you later," she promised again. "Bye."

She hung up, feeling a bit more balanced. Not much, but a bit.

A little bit later she lay back down to sleep, staring at the ceiling and telling herself her body did not still feel thrilling fires in every single spot Zuko had touched her.

* * *

TBC.

AN: Kudos to those who catch the LJ Smith references. ;)  
AN: Also, thank you to Avatargirl92 for bringing up something I forgot to add in a previous chapter -- I hope this chapter helped clear up a few things.  
AN: Thank you for reading!

/this chapter first posted October 4, 2008.


	26. Chapter 26

**Author: moor / beyondthemoor on LJ  
Title: Merits  
Part : Twenty five  
Genre: Romance/humour/vamp/Modern AU  
Fandom: Avatar: TLA  
Pairing: Zutara, Jetara  
Length: 4000 words, approx...  
Rating: M  
Disclaimer : "Avatar: The Last Airbender" and all related rights belong to their original creators… I am not among their ranks.  
AN: In response to hyperoo' s vampire/Zutara challenge, I present…**

**

* * *

**

Part Twenty five

She. Smelled. Terrible.

Katara wrinkled her nose and looked around the room for the hundredth time. She could see every detail in the wood panels of the bookcase, down to their grain, could read the titles of the novels within it, could count the threads of the sheets she'd slept so soundly in, much to her surprise. She could smell the faint traces of Zuko on those same sheets, and on herself.

And it wasn't just her sight and smell that had sharpened; Katara remembered, now, how she'd thrown Zuko off herself effortlessly hours earlier. She could have really hurt him if she'd gone after him a second time. (She stowed that knowledge away for later in case he tried anything when her back was turned.) Her focus landed on her hand. All the little hair-width scars that had criss-crossed her hands from the rough work she'd done as a young teenager to earn money had disappeared. In fact, she felt fantastic, like she'd never been sick a day in her life.

But it was her sense of smell now that made her stomach roil slightly. She really, really needed a bath. Who knew that getting into some kind of accident at her apartment and ending up having almost-sex with her co-worker and then sleeping for 12 hours straight could leave a girl so less-than-fresh?

Overcoming the uncomfortable feeling she was snooping, Katara got up and started looking around Zuko's bedroom for a shelf or drawer where her 'host' might keep his towels. She saw his hanging on the door of his closet… but she wasn't comfortable or bold (or desperate) enough yet to resort to them.

_Maybe there's a linen closet outside, by the bathroom?_ She wondered hopefully, and, after grabbing Zuko's robe from the end of the bed to cover herself, she peeked outside the room into the hallway.

_Now where _is_ the bathroom?..._

* * *

He heard her first cautious steps when she woke and explored his room; then as she padded down the hall in her bare feet, quietly opening each door she passed.

She paused outside his door.

At the last moment, he closed his eyes and pretended to still be asleep.

Katara knocked lightly and peeked her head through the door a crack.

"… Zuko?" she whispered uncomfortably.

"Mmph?"

"Where do you keep your spare towels? And your bathroom? Please," she added as an afterthought. She was trying not to look at him, he noticed, instead choosing to study the floor and when she opened the door a bit more saw she'd wrapped his robe around herself and tied it securely with what looked like a knot of nautical proportions. The detailed, hand-woven area rug that led to the spare bed he was pretending to sleep on seemed too enthralling to allow simple, boring him to distract her attention.

_Yep, she thinks the worst of me right now_, part of his consciousness piped up cheerfully. If she had a chastity belt, she'd be bolting it on…

Without a word, he pushed his covers back—almost chuckling when Katara turned 180 degrees around to wait in the hall and give him his privacy—and grabbed a pair of jeans and sweater he'd collected earlier when he'd snuck back into his own room while his guest slept on.

Yet the feeling he had from her, as much as she tried to bury them under the coat of nonchalance she wore, was that she didn't find him repulsive… It was rather of trying to deny, or avoid confronting her feelings of attraction to him. He knew, since he could still feel enough of his own life-blood in hers and could still sense her conflicting urges as they pulsed through her. The way her blood-pressure had spiked when he'd pulled his blankets back had stirred him, too, he couldn't deny it.

But for the time being, she was his 'guest', and would see to her needs.

"Follow me," and he led her down the hall and around a corner.

He didn't pay much attention to the decorating as they walked, but Katara seemed to get distracted by the simple, elegant furnishings and paintings that sparsely adorned the walls.

"Where is this one from?" she asked, stopping in front of an ink-brush picture of a lonely hinterland landscape. It stood out from the others not only due to its subject matter, but also its…

Katara looked at it more closely. There was something about it, about this particular picture...

Zuko stopped and glanced over at her steadily from his heavy-lidded eyes.

"My family travelled extensively," he replied evasively.

"Did they ever go up to the Northern Lands? Into the Territories?" she asked eagerly, reaching a finger out towards the painting, drawn to it.

Automatically Zuko's hand shot out and circled her wrist, stopping her fingers from connecting with the worn animal-skin parchment. Even if it was protected by glass and frame, uneasiness rippled through him at the notion of contact between the painting and the woman beside him.

"There's nothing of interest to them there," _anymore_, he said, and turned away, releasing her when she looked at him in surprise. "The bathroom's over here, next door on your right," he opened it and entered, not waiting for her to catch up. It led into a second room from there, and he turned on all the lights and opened a few cupboards for her. "There are towels inside on the shelves, and I'll bring you some clothes to wear in the meantime. Use anything you need."

Holding the robe close and closed at her neck, Katara looked around and nodded. "Thanks."

"I'll knock and leave clothes just inside the first door. Close this connecting door for privacy," he was already preparing to leave. He stopped with his hand on the doorknob, about to close the door behind him when he took a step back in again.

"This keypad by the door – you'll see it in every room. If you need me for anything, press 1. It'll go to my cellphone. If I'm not there and something happens, hit 9-1-1."

He felt the surge in her blood pressure and tried not to shudder. Her feelings were so strong, calling to him. Almost literally, she was pulling at him, drawing him to her.

"What do you mean, 'if something happens'? Where are you going?" Her eyes narrowed to slits for a second, suspiciously, but he didn't miss the way her jaw worked a moment longer, the way she swallowed nervously and glanced away, brow furrowed, before looking back at him in challenge.

It took everything in him not to rush to her and pull her into his arms to comfort her and tell her not to worry, he'd take care of everything. But he was concerned it would scare her more if he were to do so. _If you only knew, only remembered, _the wistful thought surfaced briefly before disappearing again. Reminding himself he'd waited a long time and could wait some more, he sighed.

"I'm going to go shower in the downstairs bathroom, and then I'm going to go get breakfast. Er, lunch, probably, by now…" Zuko explained, glancing at the windows and measuring their slant of light. "Do you need anything else?"

The mortified look on her face said, _'Yes, but I'm too embarrassed to ask' _and was promptly followed by an awkward silence.

He waited a moment longer in agony, but when she didn't volunteer anything he growled and rubbed his hand down his face. "OK, how about I let you know when I'm going? We'll go out together."

"I'll dial 1 when I'm ready," she promised immediately, and ushered him out of the bathroom. Just as she was about to close the door on him, she glanced up, a bit hesitantly, to look him in the face.

"What?"

"… um, it may take me a while to get all this smoke out of my hair," it wasn't fear in her voice, or anger or frustration, but there was something behind her forced-casual tones that kept him just outside the door, listening to her trying to ask for something without saying it, that he couldn't ignore or walk away. "Could you just stick around until I'm done? Not in here, I mean," she suddenly reddened, "but, uh, it may take me a while. Just, if you could not go out, anywhere, until I'm completely ready?"

"I need to clean the car and dump our clothes in the wash anyway. Just leave what you have on now outside the door, and I'll toss everything in after my shower. Take your time," he added, and with a quick look in her eyes tried to assure her he wouldn't make a move without her knowing it. "I said we'd go together."

"… Thanks."

He gave a quick grunt in answer and accepted her nod of appreciation as she closed the door gently between them.

Zuko waited outside the door until he heard the sounds of the shower alternately sluicing off Katara's body or pounding the tile walls as she moved in and out of the steady pressure. It was only when he remembered he had to go take his own shower that he pulled his forehead back from her door, where he'd been resting it, trying to calm himself, and let his hands unclench and drop from their iron grip on the frame.

He didn't bother turning on the hot water for his own shower.

* * *

"… troops are either sleeping or recovering, regular watch has been established around the perimeter of the compound, Suki's coming around in the sick bay. And as far as we can see, Long Feng's little army have pulled back to their stronghold to regroup and are staying quiet," the voice over the secure-transmission line informed Toph as she sat in her private study with her feet on her desk.

"Keep an eye on Long Feng and let us know if we have any chance of getting our spies out of his camp alive," Toph instructed. "I don't like going forward with no intel, but we're gonna need every hand we can get ready if they spring an assault on the main house."

"Yes ma'am."

"Good job, out."

At the coffee table before her, Aang and Sokka sat huddled quietly over their lunches, exhaustion etched into the lines of their faces, both refusing her orders to go get some rest until they'd heard the latest status reports.

"So we know she's alive, we know she's with Zuko, but why you won't give us Zuko's address?"

Not for the first time that day, Toph let her head roll back against her oversize chair and stared blindly at the ceiling.

"Because I think Long Feng's watching us all. The moment he sees us move, he's going to have a dozen tails on us and he'll follow us directly to where Zuko and Katara are. We'll be delivering them right into his hands. We don't have enough people ready yet to protect them from that kind of onslaught."

"But you're sure she's alive and ok?"

"Yes, she's just fine. She called me when I was in the sick bay working on healing Suki's fractures. I got the message when I left. She was coherent and everything," though the coherence and hesitation were questionable, but Toph wasn't about to admit that to the men in her midst.

"How do we know Long Feng doesn't already know where Zuko lives?"

"Stop. Just stop," Sokka looked beseechingly at Aang for his latest outburst. "Please, just stop."

Realising what his insensitive words had implied, Aang paled. "Sokka, I'm sorry, I didn't mean it that way."

"Toph, could you call when you hear anything from her again? Please?"

"Sure. Door's open, go shower & get some rest," she waved her hand in the direction of the master bedroom and heard him drag himself out of his chair and through the doors to her room, pulling it softly shut behind him.

Toph shifted her feet on her desk slightly, and continued staring at the ceiling.

"I'm really sorry, Toph."

"Don't worry, Zuko's a man of his word. She's fine. I'll see if I can set up a conference call with them so we can work out how to keep her safe. Now go to bed."

When he left and she was alone, Toph faintly detected the sounds of Sokka's feet shuffling back from the bathroom and then him collapsing into her bed. She knew he could use a bit of comfort, but her thoughts were confusing, and she didn't like uncertainty. She'd no doubt end up kicking him in her angsting and tossing. A few more minutes to herself wouldn't be a bad thing, to try and calm her most troubling thoughts.

Mostly, how had Zuko brought Katara 'back' when Toph had felt her friend's life-force leave her?

Because she knew it had; Katara had… passed. Of that she was dead certain. When the young witch had felt Katara's last breath leave her lungs, as she could detect the passing of life with people she was so emotionally attached to, she thought her own breath had ceased. It had bewildered, then terrified her as the full meaning of that absence had sunk in. A piece of her own self felt like it had been eclipsed or shorn off, an indispensable part of her own being broken loose.

But then, hours later she'd felt a surge of energy, and her best friend's breath and heartbeat had started again.

And then the call, the hesitant, attempting-to-be-reassuring-yet-failing call to let her know she was 'fine'. Which was a total lie. Even over the phone she'd been able to tell that much.

But… What had happened?

Toph had a bad feeling about what she was starting to think had transpired, and how it had probably involved Zuko Sozin's vampiric intervention.

* * *

Zuko hated grocery shopping.

Katara loved it.

Zuko hated shoe shopping.

Katara loved it.

Zuko hated 'bargain' shopping.

Katara loved it.

Zuko REALLY hated 'pharmacy' shopping down aisles full of feminine hygiene products.

Katara ignored him standing frigidly behind her, emasculated in a certain aspect, as she hummed and hawed over which painkillers and tampons to buy. (She had no idea if hers had survived back at her apartment, so she might as well stock up, she figured.)

"Is there anything I can get you from any other aisles?" he finally asked, still looking anywhere but at The Stuff on the shelves in front of them.

For a moment, her subconscious eagerly piped up, "The rubbers are at the far end of this aisle, if you wanna pick up where we left off this morning." But she kept her subconscious subdued and just shook her head. "I think I'm good, but is it ok if we take a quick look around in case I forgot anything?"

Resisting the urge to drag her bodily from the pharmacy, Zuko forced himself to nod (though tightly) and helped carry all her shopping bags out while she carried her recent finds to the counter for purchase…

* * *

"What did you want for supper?" He pointed absently at the row of restaurants nearby.

"We just bought food. I'll make supper."

"… are you sure?"

"What, you think I can't cook?"

"No! No, I just thought you'd want to rest after all that shopping, and-."

"I don't need to rest, I rested all morning, and I'm not letting all this food go to waste!"

"Ok! Ok! Fine, we're going straight home."

"You mean you're taking me back to my apartment. Because I need to go back to work tomorrow, you know, and so do you, and we aren't taking off more sick time because it's wrong to make others take on our workload. So back to my apartment now, please."

"…"

It was going to be a long, loud, argumentative drive back to his home. He could feel it in his bones. And in hers, though fainter than he would have heard it had it still been that morning.

Somewhat pained, Zuko finished loading the bags into the trunk and entered the now-warm car that idled, Katara already buckled into 'her' seat, the front passenger. A glance at her determined face resigned him to what he had to do.

"What's Toph's phone number?"

* * *

_Some time later…_

"Your mail has been forwarded here for the next while-."

WHAM.

"Your belongings and personal effects are being salvaged from the apartment, and the restoration crews will be there by Tuesday next week-."

BANG.

"You can return to work next week; Bumi's allowed us both some 'stress leave' due to the accident. By the way, he said he hopes we 'reconcile our differences' and are ready to decorate our office for some kind of 'end of term theme party'…"

CRUNCH-CRACK.

"… And Toph said your property management company is looking into the gas leak, and bythewayshethinksyoushouldstayhereuntilyoucanmovebackin."

_FOOM!_

"…Do you need any help with dinner?" asked Zuko tentatively as Katara hurled another stainless steel pan viciously on the stove to simmer. On the next burner over, the frying pan exploded with a burst of flame as she turned to it to flambé… something. He couldn't remember what they'd bought that afternoon anymore. After the murderous slicing Katara had inflicted on it with his chef's blades, and then her blunt dumping of the contents from the chopping board into different pots for boiling, steaming or frying, he was beginning to get the impression she hadn't taken any of his updates as 'good news'.

"What, do you think I'm incompetent in the kitchen?" she snapped, brandishing a cleaver Ratatouille-style in front of him.

"No, but hostile and dangerous are close contenders," came to mind, but he knew better than to admit fear out loud around a caged animal.

"Call if you need me."

"Right, dial 1 on the keypad," she muttered sarcastically to herself, and went back to stirring and stabbing the frying pan with a pair of extra-long chopsticks.

* * *

_Some time later still…_

"… Does it taste ok?"

Zuko glanced up at the chef from his place at the table, and nodded. He felt like walking on eggshells around her, she was so temperamental that evening. Was she always like this? "Yeah, tastes fine." He ducked his head down before remembering his manners and adding, "thank you."

That wasn't the correct answer.

A slender, dark brown eyebrow arched over a blue eye. "Fine?"

Zuko vowed that night to somehow, someway, get Toph's direct number from Katara's cellphone directory. Going through Aang wasn't working. And he could really use Toph-scale reinforcements to deal with the 'Sugar Queen'…

Zuko racked his mind to find a way to salvage the situation. "Uh, would you like some," _calming_, "jasmine tea?" he asked desperately, already jumping up and moving to the cupboard.

The barrage paused.

"Yes, please…"

_Uncle, someday, somehow, I will repay you for your guidance_, the vampire vowed silently in gratitude.

* * *

She still hadn't called him back.

Jet paced back and forth in the snow outside the park near his building. He'd felt too claustrophobic to go home after work, and had kept walking since his shift ended.

In the cold night air his nostrils flared and he felt a wildness creep in and overtake him, fueled by his panic and anger. His breathing was harsh in the bitter chill, and his lungs seared by frost, but still he paced, faster and faster, around and through the park, searching for any sign of Katara.

Memories of his last conversation with Long Feng trailed through his mind, enraging him further.

"_Perhaps you shouldn't keep looking for her," the man had said sympathetically, looking away from Jet. "She… may not want to be found… right now…" _

_Jet had whirled on him, so furious the hair on his arms stood upright._

"_What does that mean!"_

"_Oh, nothing, nothing, please accept my apologies, I was just… thinking aloud."_

_Long Feng had watched him, slowly, before speaking again._

"_How much does Katara know about you, Jet?"_

"_She knows all about my past," he'd spat back. "I've moved on, I'm a good person now. Katara knows and accepts me, everything about me."_

"_She knows 'everything' about you?" asked Long Feng casually._

_Jet's lips pulled back angrily as he bared his teeth at the man. "What are you insinuating? Of course she does!" Tremors overtook his arms and he moved faster, pacing back and forth through the meeting room, wearing a path down through the carpet. His eyes raced back and forth from the doors to the windows and back again._

"_How long has it been since you left your pack?"_

_The air rushing in and out of Jet's lungs stopped, choking him; his eyes bulged as he staggered to a stop to stare at Long Feng's calculating smile. The older man's reptilian eyes stared back, and his gold watch glinted like a snake coiled around his wrist._

_Jet's heartbeat came to a sudden halt; then started again, jack-hammering inside him, nearly to the point of pain. His pulse rushed in his ears, he could hear his own panic in their rhythm._

_Long Feng simply sat as cold-heartedly as ever, staring straight back at him._

"_Did you think I didn't know?" the vampire continued disdainfully, propping his chin on his hand. "Haven't you told Katara your little secret?"_

_At Jet's silence, Long Feng's smile deepened, his chin tucking in slightly as shadows were cast under his eyes in the dim light. He stood, and took his turn pacing slowly, circling Jet and appraising him._

"_I bet she's never seen the 'real you', and that you'd do anything to stop her knowing," he said softly, playing on the emotions that Jet couldn't conceal quickly enough._

"_You're lying. I don't have to listen to this," spat the young man, shaking himself free of the vampire's trance and backing away towards the door._

"_Sooner or later she's going to find out. She's going to see you for what you really are. She'll either leave you out of disgust, or suffer from a wound your instincts will inflict on her. I've known your kind a long time, Jet…," the smooth, cruel voice stopped inches from his over-sensitive ear. "And I know a lone wolf doesn't walk alone because he wants to; it's because he's been rejected, abandoned."_

"_Shut up." Jet fumbled for the door handle._

"_It's because he was dangerous to those around him."_

"_I said, shut up."_

"_He's started going crazy and hurt someone beyond healing."_

"_Shut. Up!"_

_The door slammed behind Jet as he stormed from the room, already feeling the urge to shift cascading through him in ever-increasing waves._

_**Not here, not here, not here… **_

_He'd run the entire way home, and kept running until he'd burned his nervous energy off and dragged himself to bed, half-dead with exhaustion._

Jet looked up at the night sky and took a deep, cleansing breath. He hated his other form, found it vile--.

… the scents on the evening breeze brought with them the evidence he was searching for; a hint of Zuko's car, Katara's perfume…

--but there were sometimes occasions when his other form was more useful, practical, than his human body.

Closing his eyes and walking into the park's forest, Jet let his instincts take over and felt the shiver of the change start to take hold of him. He'd never undertaken a shift when he'd been so calm, so controlled, but the familiarity of the transition he experienced was almost comfortable that night. He enjoyed it this time.

The pads of his paws touched the frozen ground with soft thuds, hardly disturbing the patterns of now-silent wildlife around him. Hardly, but not quite. They could sense when there was a predator in their midst.

Tempering the growl that rumbled in his throat, Jet shook himself and tilted his muzzle to the air. _I'll find you…_

If he couldn't find Katara while he was a man…

… he'd find her...

... as a wolf.

* * *

TBC.

AN: My apologies for the long delay between chaps… I'm so sorry!!!  
AN: Please enjoy the usual LJ Smith & Buffy refs. (And I hope you like this chapter!)

THANK YOU for reading! This chap's dedicated to all of you who keep fav'ing this story, putting it on your 'watch' lists, and leaving me such fantastic comments. Hyperoo, I owe you for convincing me not to dump this fic in a back road ditch. 8)

**This chapter first posted Nov 27 2008.**

PS: If you find errors (spelling, grammatical, plot-wise, etc.) please let me know in the Comments/Reviews or a PM! (You'll be doing me a favour since I keep missing them, grr! It's embarrassing to me to find them later…like 2 months later when I'm too lazy to go back and make changes…urk.)

Not sure if this matters, but… I'm coming up to my 2-year anniversary on this site next week – I'm trying to post chaps for a few of my stories to celebrate. Expect a new chapter or two in various stories, and a new VK fic, in December as another installment of me 'celebrating'. See you in Dec!


	27. Chapter 27

**Author: moor / beyondthemoor on LJ  
Title: Merits  
Part : Twenty six  
Genre: Romance/humour/vamp/Modern AU  
Fandom: Avatar: TLA  
Pairing: Zutara, Jetara  
Length: 4700 words, approx...  
Rating: M  
Disclaimer : "Avatar: The Last Airbender" and all related rights belong to their original creators… I am not among their ranks.  
AN: In response to hyperoo' s vampire/Zutara challenge, I present…  
**

* * *

**Part Twenty six**

"I'm heading out."

Katara glanced up from her book of legends. Surrounded by piles of paperwork, annotated bibliographies and medical texts, it took a moment for her to refocus her attention on the speaker. She nodded distantly, her mind still processing… whatever she was working on, as far as Zuko would tell.

"Uh-huh. Will you be back soon?"

"… I'll be back by midnight. I have an appointment."

_Another 'appointment'?_

Katara nodded, already turning back to her notes. She wondered briefly if he was going to pick up a blond or a brunette to screw around with in his car that night. Then she scrunched her eyes shut and tried to will away the next mental image that popped into her head. Because it made her _jealous_, of all things, and she couldn't figure out why.

She really had to do something about her crazy imagination these days…

Zuko was gone before she'd picked her book back up again. She was sure she could fit in at least another few hours of work. And Zuko was a good alarm-clock when it came to judging time. Whenever he'd come in, late at night and reeking of cheap perfume, he'd always ask her why she was still up. And she'd always ask what time it was, then groan and start tidying her table up, knowing it was time for bed. And then glare at him for smelling like a trashy gigolo and presumably enjoying himself while she was sitting 'home', alone, with nothing but her work. And yet she missed him when he wasn't there. It was infuriating. Simply infuriating.

She knew she was perfectly capable of staying up late and doing the work… and then maybe even going out, dare she humiliatingly admit, with Zuko the way she wanted, to learn more about him. To try and figure out what it was about him that kept fascinating her. Especially that week while she & Zuko were 'off work' from the office, and without her teaching responsibilities (which luckily the other grad students had helped cover for her), she finally had the time to spend… relaxing.

…Apart from her paper on the porphyria legends she was still trying to complete.

Katara leaned back in her chair and rubbed her eyes with the heel of her hand. There was always something.

She'd sent a letter of inquiry to a historical and cultural expert from her tribe and was still waiting for a reply. So far, nothing yet.

"Get back to work and forget about him," she said to herself in the now-quiet, empty room. She wasn't sure whether she was trying to forget about the long-awaited reply, or Zuko. It was hard, though. It seemed that since temporarily moving in with Zuko Sozin, he'd filled her senses. She looked around, she saw him. She worked, she could hear him. She went to sleep, and she could smell his scent on the clothes she'd borrowed from him. When she cooked—now that she'd become more familiar with his kitchen, she did all their cooking—she fantasized she could practically taste him, licking the spoons she cooked with before cornering her against the counter, pressing into her as he'd lean down and ask her if she wanted to try what he could cook up…

"Get back to work and forget about him," she repeated again as she slapped the colour from her cheeks.

Yet there was another person she was forgetting in all of this transition.

A few hours later, closing in on ten thirty, Katara noticed a scratching sound coming from the rear of the house. From outside the _rear_ of the house. She wasn't familiar with that area of the dwelling, never having bothered exploring that far. Was there another entrance?

"Zuko?"

Her call echoed down the halls of the sprawling residence.

"Zuko, did you forget your key?" _Did he forget his key and the garage door opener?_ Her mind questioned her suspiciously.

There was no answer.

After a moment or two of silence, the scratching picked up again, this time accompanied by a high-pitched whining.

_Whatever it is is outside the house, so it will stay there,_ she told herself firmly, and proceeded to ignore it. Ferociously. Stubbornly… And partly in vain, as she spent just as much time talking herself _out_ of going to investigate it anyway.

_Because you already have too many problems on your plate, Katara. Do you really need any backyard monsters or boogeymen scaring the crap out of you alone in the dark right now? No. You need it about as much as you need a sexy new skullett. Case closed. Keep studying._

She pretended to ignore it for a good twenty minutes, reading and re-reading the same page of her book a half-dozen times before finally dropping it on the coffee table in exasperation when the sound adamantly refused to let up. It was difficult to halt her teeth grinding together as she glared down the hallway the sounds emanated from.

"Zuko, I swear, if this is a joke…"

The whining and scratching grated on her last nerve and forced Katara into action. With a disgusted sound, she set off to find out what was haunting the rear of the house.

She hadn't spent too much time exploring this area of the building, and she took a few wrong turns before reaching the source of the noise. It always surprised her how large the house actually was indoors. The exterior was very misleading.

As she made her way down each twist and dead-end in the maze of corridors, she flipped on the overhead lights and stubbornly maintained her stomping, just to make it clear how upset she was to anyone within hearing or vibration distance. If anyone was wondering just what she thought of their prank and-or visit, by gosh it would be pretty evident by her resounding warpath.

Stalking to the rear of the house, Katara found her way to a back door that opened up onto a rear patio she had neither seen before, nor been aware of. Then, through the window at the side of the door, she saw a bulky shadow fall across the doorstep.

It wasn't the shadow of a man.

…Which in her mind pretty much ruled out any notion it could be Zuko. And she started wondering if she was in over her head…

The scratching of nails against the door clawed at Katara's nerves, and she heard faint snuffling, whining sounds again, too. The hulking shadow stalked away, then returned, passing by the window and Katara caught a glimpse of the animal's full size.

It was the largest timber wolf she'd ever seen… and she'd grown up in the Northern Territories. Wolves, while not a part of her every day childhood life, were common enough in the denser woods she'd been raised near. But this one's sheer enormity made the hair on her arms stand up and her pulse beat a warning in her ear.

_What was such a creature doing here, in Ba Sing Se?_

Then the wolf stopped, and as if sensing her presence on the other side of the door, stood still as a frozen lake. Through the window, it observed her.

… and as Katara heard her pulse rushing through her and her breath releasing in a gasp, something about the way the beast looked at her felt eerily familiar.

* * *

He'd found her.

Jet kept his tongue inside his mouth, though he was thirsty from exhaustion after trailing her all day. He wanted to pant to get more air, but found himself immobile as he gazed at her.

_It was her, it was her, she was alive!_

Narrowing his canine eyes, he noticed what he thought were changes, though. The glass distorted his vision and he longed to see her properly. To touch her, to smell her, to…

He paused.

_But how to talk to her?_

_Don't pace, don't pace, you'll look like any stupid, stray animal_, he reminded himself in frustration, coming up with a plan while he watched her.

_First, sit. She needs to think you're tame, or she's going to panic._

And with that, he turned, walked a few steps back, and went to lie down a few feet away from the door, facing the window. It was then he let his tongue loll out and crossed his paws in front of him. He could fake acting like a dog for a bit, if it meant gaining her trust in this form.

Yes. He would wait for her. As long as it took.

Because he knew, despite all her skepticism, she was curious and inherently trusting.

He'd always recognized how easily she trusted others.

* * *

The brunette under him giggled annoyingly, again, before pulling back in a tease to dart away from his mouth. _Again…_

"So how come you're so mysterious?" she said, lifting a hand to toy with his hair as it fell into his face.

Trying to school his face into a not-scowl, Zuko smiled tightly. _Great, another one who wanted to prolong the inevitable._ All he wanted was a decent meal. Zuko felt his teeth retract painfully; he was starving. He still hadn't fed that week, since Katara had been attacked and then moved in with him. It was getting difficult to remain even-tempered around her, and to look at her without sensing the beat of her pulse beneath her dusky skin. Just thinking about her, waiting at home for him, made him crave her more.

"I just work a lot," he replied, returning to the meal at hand. "It's hard to meet people."

"So what made you want to meet me?" she asked coquettishly, twisting and wriggling suggestively beneath him but ducking out of his mouth's reach once more.

_Don't rip her throat out, you've dealt with more annoying idiots than this. It's been days since you last fed, and you gave Katara your blood recently and you're just getting a bit strung out and hungry._ Zuko repeated this to himself for the fourth time, and resigned himself to keep trying.

But his patience was wearing thin. It was time for his last-resort tactic: sexy-voice. Lowering his tone, he smiled soulfully and said, "I thought you were special," _with a capital 'S'_, added his cynical side. He made to lean over her throat again when she gasped and her hand suddenly grasped her jeans pocket.

"Oh my god, that's, like, my phone! It's on vibrate!"

Zuko's teeth ground together hard enough to nearly crack a fang.

Of course she answered, and then became increasingly distracted by her friend's "Oh my god, like, crisis!", and he wasn't surprised when she immediately asked to be taken home to see if she could help her friend fix her devastatingly failed attempt at doing her own highlights... while drunk.

His car wove neatly through the streets as she yammered away on her phone. He'd be going hungry for another night, it seemed.

* * *

Katara stared at the wolf through the window.

It stayed exactly where it was, watching her with its head on its crossed front paws.

Puzzled by how disciplined it seemed, she moved a bit closer to the window by the firmly closed, securely locked door.

The wolf remained where it was.

She was now close enough to touch her fingertips, then her full palm to the cool glass that separated them, still fascinated by the beautiful, rugged animal outside. Out in the elements, and outside his natural element, too. Something inside her twisted faintly in sympathy, and she realized it was homesickness.

"What are you doing so far from home?" she wondered aloud, wistfully.

Outside, the wind gusted strongly and she saw the long, shaggy fur blow crosswise, the large animal hunkering down and tucking his paws and nose further under his body as a result. Even with his thick winter coat, he was getting cold, the poor beast.

Another strong wind blew, and the wolf shrugged into himself further, whining slightly. He held her gaze with his own through it all.

_He's suffering sitting so still in this weather_, she realized. _Why is he here? What is he waiting for? _

"You need to find your home," she said to the glass, as if he could hear and understand her words. "Don't you have someone waiting for you?" Wolves mated for life, didn't they? Katara tried to recall her elementary school lessons about animals, nature, the seasons. Yes, the more she thought about it, the more she was sure wolves kept to their families, their packs, their territory.

She remembered watching TV documentaries when she was younger about the different animals common to the northern climate she was raised in. The wolves had stuck out to her, partly due to their predatory nature, but also due to their collective mentality. How close the animals were, how they'd run together, hunt together, stay most of their lives together. Katara remembered wondering what it would be like to have not a physical home, but a group of people she could always come home to, like the wolves. Then she'd realized, even as a young girl that in a way that's exactly what she already had. She had lost members of her family, been forced to move to her grandmother's when her father's job had been transferred, but she'd always known that part of her had belonged there anyway, as long as she was with her family.

The most recent example still stuck out clearly in her mind: Having her brother so close had helped her adjust to her new life in Ba Sing Se. But she'd always felt like part of her was missing at the same time. Someone. She'd long attributed that longing to homesickness.

The coolness of the glass and the familiarity of the animal suddenly made Katara wish she had something of her home with her.

"If I open the door," she said, half to herself, "Will you be a good boy and stay there?"

The animal's intelligent eyes gleamed back at her, and she could have sworn she saw him nod.

Jet stared at her in gleeful anticipation. _She was going to do it, she was going to meet him!_

The first lock clicked as she undid it.

Then the second, with a thud.

Outside, the wind gusted and the wolf half-closed his eyes to keep out the blowing snow. His tail wagged as he heard the locks fall open.

The doorknob was cool and smooth under her palm, he guessed, since she held it hesitantly, rubbed her palms together to warm them, then reached for it again.

As Katara gave a light tug, the cold air rushed towards her in a torrent and the wind blew the door open far further than she'd meant to allow. The force of it knocked her off her feet, and she lost her hold on the door.

It happened quicker than she could have imagined; with a gasp, Katara fell back a step and just stared when she felt the cool muzzle nudge her hand, quickly followed by a friendly lick.

The wolf had a paw on the doorstep and held the other up, as if offering it to her to shake.

"… Toph is never going to believe this…" she said incredulously to the clever-looking animal.

She could have sworn he grinned.

* * *

Tired, testy and fighting the hunger that gnawed at his stomach, Zuko sped home and would have incurred a record number of traffic violations had he been caught by a patrolman.

A hiss escaped his clenched teeth as he ran a hand through his hair as he turned a corner. He'd hoped to avoid this, but it was getting desperate. If he risked more than a few more days, he'd reach dangerous blood-lust levels and would start to lose his reason. It was essential he remain in control of himself; essential to his survival, and to Katara's. Things were too critical now for any margin of error.

He couldn't, wouldn't make the same mistakes he had, last time.

He roared into the driveway, his mind set.

That night, he'd explain to Katara that he was a vampire.

And that he really needed her to show some sensitivity and be his personal snack.

Er, blood donor.

Supper.

Whatever.

By now he was parked inside his armoured garage, the automatic door having closed behind him long ago. Strangely, he didn't remember the rest of the drive home. Another bad sign: lapses in time.

Zuko felt his mind cloud a moment and he rubbed roughly at his eyes. Inability to think clearly was one of the first signs of bloodlust. He had to steady himself, to stop the spiral.

Hallucination, diminished inhibitions, and finally blind, voracious bloodbaths were other levels he had to be vigilant about, or risk the end result.

"Calm down. You're not going crazy. Everything is fine."

He repeated it to himself three times, calmly, before he stepped out of his car. He just needed to practice what he'd say first. There, yes, that was a good idea. His uncle had always said he needed to think things through before he jumped in blind.

"Katara, do you have a few minutes? We need to talk."

Yes, that was a good start. Ok, he could build on that.

"Katara, I have a big favour to ask, but you need to close your eyes first. And I may need to bind you if you aren't cooperative."

No, no, that wouldn't do at all…

"Submissive."

Worse.

"Katara, you're a medical professional and I have a specific condition that… forces me to drink your blood. But on the plus side, I promise I'll put you in ecstasy!"

The timer light in the garage blinked out above him and the desperate vampire lord was plunged into darkness.

"Great."

Trudging in to his house, he wondered briefly how much gas he had left in his car and where the nearest cheap motel was located, in case Katara kicked him out of his own house that night…

… and walked into his living room to find Katara watching television on the floor in front of the couch, curled up into a large animal fur. Then to his chagrin, the fur breathed.

_No, wait_, he thought, and rubbed his eyes again. _That can't be…_

"Hey Zuko!" her bright, cheerful voice welcomed him home. Ok, so it wasn't a total melt down. Thank the heavens, he'd started thinking…

"This is my new pet wolf. I found him on the back porch. Can I keep him?"

Oh wait, he was going crazy. Super. Then he might as well…

… open his mouth and step right in.

Opening both his eyes, he stared at her seriously. What was there to stop him now?

"Katara, I'm a vampire, I'm hungry, and I need to drink your blood. Please proceed to my bedroom, take off your shirt, and hop on my bed where I will put you in throes of ecstasy to quench my thirst. Promptly."

The TV continued blaring, but Katara—and her new pet wolf—stared at him blankly.

It was kind of like an awkward silence he'd triggered when he was younger, when his father had suggested killing one of their retainers and he'd opposed it because the man was still useful as a food source. Hmmm… Actually, the more he thought about it, the more he recognized some of the similarities….

"Have you been drinking?" asked Katara, eyeing him oddly.

_No, that's the problem. _

Then he mentally shook himself in realization of what he'd said. He would normally never have said what he did. And what exactly had he just let loose out of his mouth? He couldn't remember._ But oh shit, this is bad._

"Yes," he lied.

"Oh, well OK." She glanced at him again in surprise.

"What?"

"I've never seen you eat, that's all. No wonder you're acting funny, you probably have nothing in your stomach."

And with that she turned back to her show, giving her wolf a quick scratch between his ears. He growled lowly in pleasure.

She had no idea how close to the truth she was.

The scent of her blood wafted over to him and his teeth lengthened in anticipation and need, their prime directive ordering him to gorge themselves on the lifeblood pulsing beneath her fragile skin. Calling to him. Making his gaze linger on her throat. Causing his eyes to go half-lidded with desire and thirst…

He had to get out of there.

"I'm going… to bed…"

With that, the famished vampire turned on his heel and headed straight to his room, ignoring the sickening smell of wolf, the confused look of Katara's eyes, and the strong, healthy heartbeat that sang in her veins regardless of everything that was happening around her. His head felt tight and soreness was overwhelming him; he couldn't remain close to her any longer.

Through the haze of his dizziness, however, he didn't miss the wolf watching him as he made his way through the house to the master bedroom.

He locked his door that night, not to keep them out, but to keep himself in.

* * *

_The next morning…_

"I can't believe this! That sexist old goat!"

Zuko peeked up from his laptop to glance at Katara, just in time to see her new 'pet' place his head in her lap in sympathy. She was staring angrily at a letter she'd received in the mail that morning

"Sorry Fluffy," she mumbled kindly, giving him a quick pat to reassure him she wasn't angry with him in the least.

"What's wrong?" asked Zuko cautiously.

The beautiful young woman threw herself angrily back in her seat and waved the offending correspondence at him. "This! I finally track down the author of the most influential reference work I'm using for my paper, and he's refusing to talk to me. Not telling me he's too busy – but lecturing me on what I _should_ be doing!"

"Well, if it's in relation to your paper, then maybe he just thinks your approach is—," started Zuko tactfully, confused as to her outburst. Katara didn't let him get very far.

"Ooooh no, this has nothing to do with my paper! Listen to this," she said, clearing her throat.

_As if I had a choice_, he thought to himself, but braced himself for her (no doubt) highly colourful version of the 'sexist' man's reply.

"_Miss Kuruk,"_ she started nastily and making sure she had his full attention.

Zuko felt his insides roil slightly in discomfort. This was going to be ugly, he could tell. But the nearest exit was too far away for him to be able to slip out without her noticing. He hadn't slept well, too wracked by his hunger pains, and his patience was wearing thinner by the hour.

It didn't help that Katara's anger had her blood, literally, boiling and smelling absolutely divine to his famished senses. While his mouth watered, and his fangs sharpened and pushed at the inside of his mouth in urgency, she continued reading.

"_How different it is to hear from a young woman as educated as yourself. Why are you wasting your most productive child-bearing years away from your people when you could be supporting them and your husband here at home? I will gladly tell your children many of our traditional legends and stories; however I feel your personal inquiries do not warrant my immediate attention. _

"_Please let me know when you are in the area, I'd love to entertain your little whims over your no-doubt pristine kitchen table in your lovely home. In return, you may repay the honour by coming over to clean mine, at your convenience._

"_Sincerely,_

"_Master Storyteller and Historian,_

"_Pakku"_

There was a very pregnant pause as, red faced and huffing, Katara lowered her letter and glared at Zuko, the only readily available representative-of-all-men within reach.

The room became very quiet. She was obviously waiting for him to offer up his thoughts on such a disgusting reply to her original inquiry.

But his focus was elsewhere.

_Her anger-fueled veins strained against the skin of her neck, begging him to lean forward, leap onto her to straddle her snugly, pin her down to the couch and sink himself in to her beautiful exposed neck to drink her dry, listening to her excited moans and gasps, feeling her offer herself to him…_

Zuko swatted the distracting hallucination away and tried to think very carefully about how to respond to Katara's fragile hold on her temper.

He glanced at the door. It hadn't moved any closer. But if he moved quickly enough…

"I, uh… I didn't know you were married?" he ventured, his eyes flicking one last time to the emergency exits. If he made a dash, he was sure he could get there before ….

Katara lost it.

Wolf streaked from the room to hide in the kitchen as Katara let loose a rant full of feminist rights and patriarchal oppression on her innocent bystander's ears for the next hour.

Yet all Zuko could think about through it all was how strange it was that he stopped hearing her vitriolic rant and instead attended to nothing but the arousing sound of her beating heart. Something inside him stirred at the thought of her, relatively unprotected and so close, smelling so enticing she made him raw with need. That morning he'd woken with a parched throat and physical pains from his hunger, and yet he slept under the same roof as someone who could ease all that, make him feel whole again, relieved…

The fantasies started anew, and became more real with each passing moment.

_Standing in front of him, her fingers loosening her shirt and inviting him to come closer as she walked slowly backwards towards his room; splaying her across fresh white sheets to smooth her hair away from the graceful arc of her neck as he'd tilt her head back; even the recent rushed meals he'd had in his car he now imagined vividly, re-creating them with Katara in place of the previous girls, pushing her back into the leather passenger seat as he'd feel her arms around his neck, pulling him closer, wanting him to take her where they were and damn the consequences…_

… _and then, back to the first fantasy, where she was now standing in front of him, the collar of her shirt gaping now and calling him. And he was responding, he could feel it. His eyes were darkening, he was leaning towards her, his strong hands reaching to touch the rushing pulse just under the mocha flesh before his eyes… _

_The agony in his teeth, his jaws, his raging thirst, he was about to sate them and take her…_

"… Zuko? Zuko, are you OK?"

Someone was snapping their fingers near his ears, annoying him. Had he been dreaming?

"Zuko? Hey! Wake up!"

A pair of hands opened his shirt and checked his pulse. He moaned in pleasure. _Finally, she was joining in, after all his fantasies, she was really…_

"Katara, I need you," he sighed to himself, still partially enthralled in his vision. In this one he hoped she was about to slowly push down the waist of her skirt and offer him her flat, smooth stomach to drink from.

He reached out again and was roughly pushed back.

His eyes flashed in surprise.

"Keep your hands to yourself, Zuko. What is wrong with you?"

An animal growled nearby and Zuko felt someone putting a cool, gentle hand to his head.

She wasn't participating in what he wanted, what he'd imagined. It wasn't going according to plan.

Frustration coursed through him like a wild river overflowing its banks; she wasn't complying. She should be. She should be doing exactly what he wanted, what he desired. She was his, his to do with as he pleased.

"It's ok, Fluffy," he heard her say off to one side, then she turned back to him. He could hear her, but his other senses were shutting down. His eyes must have been closed since he couldn't see anything. Even his fantasy had dissolved.

But the furious, starving inferno inside him was real enough. His fangs were fully exposed, his mouth and jaw ached from the emptiness, and his breath shuddered harshly from his chest. Had he been able to open his eyes, they would have been terrifying.

He'd misjudged his bloodlust, and now it overtook him.

"You're burning up. I'll go make you some soup, you get to bed," ordered Katara, already heading to the kitchen. "I'll bring this to you there."

Logic and reason had abandoned him, his hunger transforming him into the instinctive predator he was. The prince of darkness, the demon, the one who fed on the human society he lived alongside—that's what he'd become now. And that hunger currently controlled him, turning his entire awareness towards achieving one goal: satisfaction.

Strategy raced through his mind faster than he could have consciously thought.

"OK," was all he said around his engorged teeth, his intentions making his ideas clear for a brief moment.

He could lie in wait there more comfortably anyway.

* * *

"Here you go," she set the useless food down on his nightstand, and nudged back his clock to make room for the cold & flu medicine pills she'd taken from her own brand-new first aid kit to share with him.

Fathomless black eyes watched her every movement with calculating quietude; Zuko leaned against the doorframe of his room feigning lassitude. Letting her in, allowing her to feel comfortable, safe, trusting in his company. In his trap.

His living meal bustled around the room, finished a ten-second tidy to make it more pleasant for him to sleep in, and finally turned to look at him with a stern, but concerned, look on her face.

Then her eyes softened, and her shoulders relaxed. She was worried about him.

His eyes sparked. How sweet… she would be.

"Is there anything else I can do?" she asked.

"Yes," was all he said.

Then he kicked the door shut behind him, flicked the lock and leapt on her.

* * *

**TBC.**

**AN: A long time in coming, I'm sorry – but happy new year, all! Please let me know what you think of this chapter!  
AN: This chap first posted Jan 1****st****, 2009. /mm**


	28. Chapter 28

**Author: moor on / beyondthemoor on LJ  
Title: Merits  
Part : 27  
Genre: Romance/humour/vamp/Modern AU  
Fandom: Avatar: TLA  
Pairing: Zutara, Jetara  
Length: 2000 words, approx.  
Rating: M  
Disclaimer : "Avatar: The Last Airbender" and all related rights belong to their original creators… I am not among their ranks.  
AN: In response to hyperoo' s vampire/Zutara challenge, I present…**

**

* * *

**

**Part Twenty seven**

"Here you go," she set the useless food down on his nightstand and nudged back his clock to make room for the cold & flu medicine pills she'd taken from her own brand-new first aid kit to share with him.

Fathomless eyes watched her every movement with calculating quietude; Zuko leaned against the doorframe of his room feigning lassitude. Letting her in, allowing her to feel comfortable, safe, trusting in his company. In his trap.

His living meal bustled around the room, finished a ten-second tidy to make it more pleasant for him to sleep in, and finally turned to look at him with a stern, but concerned, look on her face.

Then her eyes softened, and her shoulders relaxed. She was worried about him.

His eyes sparked. How sweet… she would be.

"Is there anything else I can do?" she asked.

"Yes," was all he said.

Then he kicked the door shut behind him, flicked the lock and leapt on her.

"Me."

* * *

Katara felt the wind knocked out of her the moment her back hit Zuko's mattress beneath her. His mouth sealed over hers the next, kissing her breathless.

Eyes wide, she stared up at the man who'd pinned her to his bed: his were deep gold, heavy-lidded and overly bright at the same time; his shirt had come loose and gapped open revealing a well-defined chest that she would have surreptitiously ogled had circumstances been different; and he was warm, hot even, and that scorching heat spread from his body down through hers everywhere they touched.

With some embarrassment, she noted the warmth spreading through her body wasn't entirely from sharing Zuko's body heat, though he was in part the cause.

Zuko stared down at her in return with a hungry look transforming his features into something that made her insides twist in a surreal blend of anger, fear… and desire. Something was very wrong with the situation, though. Something was off about the man atop her. For one thing, he was, well, _atop_ her.

But first things first, she realized as her temper started to flare. What was he thinking? She was dating someone else. Physically attracted as she was to Zuko, this was completely inappropriate and had to stop before it turned into something embarrassing for both of them.

"Zuko, what the hell?" she exclaimed, yanking herself away from him and placing her hands behind her to push herself up into a sitting position on the soft bed. "You're not well, get off me, this isn't funny—ZUKO!" she gasped, but he swallowed her protests with another searing kiss. She was loathe to admit it, but he was a helluva kisser. And he didn't stop there.

Stretching out to his full length over her, he grabbed her behind the knees, settled himself between her legs and yanked her back down towards him again. Strong, capable hands then went to her hips to bring her pelvis in line with his and cradle him when he rolled his hips forward, grinding into her. A moan of pleasure escaped Katara's lips in spite of herself. It was humiliating, being so turned on against her will. Great, what a time to discover she had a yen for rough sex. She was so beating the jerk with a shovel when she got free…

… right after this kiss. His lips were the most intoxicating drug she'd ever encountered.

"Look at me," he whispered, finally releasing her lips and lowering his head to nuzzle her, cheek to cheek. He was warm, addictive and his cheek held just a hint of stubble from missing his shave that morning.

"Don't you want this?" he murmured persuasively, trailing slow, languorous kisses down her jaw. He nosed away a lock of hair, giving it a playful tug before tucking it behind her ear. "You like this. You like how this feels." A quick suck on her racing pulse.

"Fuck you," gasped Katara, breathing hard and struggling to inch away from him. Why couldn't she move faster? It was like trying to run through molasses; he was stuck to her.

"Later, I promise," his breath in her ear sent shivers down her spine. Katara bit down hard on her bottom lip to keep from giving herself away. So what if she wanted him? It was entirely physical. It didn't mean anything, plenty of people were attractive and it was natural to want to –OH SWEET SWIZZLE STICKS, WERE HIS HANDS ON HER—

A subtle squeeze and then his hands were cupping her breasts, his thumbs rubbing cheeky circles over her pert nipples.

"Stop it, Zuko. I'm seeing someone." She was looking everywhere but at him, trying to break whatever spell he'd cast over her, but the vampire was relentless. She couldn't lift a hand to stop him.

"Look at me now," he commanded, and against her will she felt her eyes drawn up to his. The moment their gazes met, the young woman felt her grip on her control slowly slipping away. She was still aware, conscious, but unable to control or move her body. Panic seeped in around the edges of her temper, and fear followed in its footsteps as her heart beat pounded in her ears. Something was very wrong.

"Zuko?..." her voice rose high with concern before she felt him dip his head lower, lower, from her mouth to her chin to her neck. _Zuko!?_ she thought in panic, her thoughts falling into disarray. She'd lost her ability to speak.

As his hair brushed over the side of her face, she felt his mouth stop at her throat.

His warm, wet tongue gently licked at her pulse again, caressing her skin lovingly before he breathed in her scent.

"Katara," he sighed, almost apologetically, before his control snapped and he sank his teeth into her.

He didn't bother to stifle his moan of pleasure, rocking his hips into her as he arched her neck back to drink more deeply, the weight of their bodies sinking further into the bed's mattress to cushion them.

Inside her mind, Katara screamed.

* * *

Something wasn't right, he could feel it.

He looked up drowsily from his paws, his jaw cracking as he let out a yawn. But he saw Katara still hadn't returned from serving Zuko his lunch. Lumbering to his feet, Fluffy-Jet whined once curiously. No reply.

Pacing impatiently around the living room and kitchen areas, Jet wondered what was taking Katara so long. They'd left a while ago; Zuko should have gone to sleep by now; so where was she? Usually she'd call for him when Zuko wasn't around, and then cuddle up to his furry side as she worked. It relaxed her to pet him and for him to nuzzle her back. She didn't lounge around or spend time with Zuko in his room, ever. It was the only reason he hadn't followed her when she'd gone to deliver his meal to him in the first place.

He paused a moment to sniff the air.

It hit him then, faint but unmistakable: fear. A woman's fear.

Then he heard a door slam shut; his sharp hearing caught the sounds from the other side of the house, where the bedrooms were. Ears pricking attentively, Jet swiveled and paused, focusing on the direction the pair had gone in.

Then there was crashing, quickly followed by Katara's muffled cries, and then to Jet's mounting concern, absolute silence.

And then the scent of freshly spilled blood permeated the air.

Large paws were already rapidly eating up the distance between the living room and Zuko's bedroom as Jet bounded down the halls, teeth bared, claws scratching and clattering on the floor and he hunched forward to drive himself faster.

If Zuko had touched a hair on her head, Jet wouldn't stop until he'd made him pay pound for pound.

* * *

Katara's clothes were tossed carelessly on the floor around Zuko's bed as he continued to imbibe.

They'd been fairly easy to remove as he'd gone about his first proper meal in days. As she'd still had some of his blood coursing through her veins, it hadn't taken too much energy to control her and subdue her. Not a course of action he took often, but he was desperate and she was available and had proved, at least physically, willing. If she'd been completely resistant to him, he'd never have been able to coax her into submission.

It had been too long since he'd had such a pleasant, relaxing banquet; the fullness had rushed to his head and made him dizzy at times, and he'd forced himself to slow down to enjoy every moment. It bordered on a sexual peak at times, how frustrated he'd been and how sated he felt, lapping at her thigh at the latest puncture-point.

The past years had been difficult on the vampire prince; he'd had to move around so often and feed most frequently within the confines of his car, or occasionally a companion's unclean abode. Rarely was he safe enough to risk bringing a meal home to enjoy. It was a bit like eating out at a fast-food restaurant, he found: eating out, hastily, was fine and would keep him alive, but being able to take his time and feast in the safety and warmth of his own home, his own bed at that, was truly the most satisfying.

He could nip any part of her he wished, and had: her neck at first, to calm his craving; then a nibble down her shoulder; after relieving her of her shirt, he'd continued downward to sip at her breast, and now, from her upper thigh. She was physically beautiful, and tasted divine.

Unfortunately, it seemed like she was starting to suffer from his ministrations, he noted as she seemed somewhat pale and wan. A pity, he thought, smoothing one hand over her hip and eyeing the tempting undergarments she wore. It had been even longer since he'd partaken in other pleasures…

Almost unconsciously, he had loosened his belt and the top of his pants and slid his other hand inside. He grasped his member gave a few slow, deep strokes to bring himself to full attention, the growing bulge no longer confined.

A new hunger started humming through his firm, hard body, from his loins to every part of him.

Though he preferred his women actively participating when he was in them, if she was already there… The vampire's gaze darkened as he took in Katara's dark hair and silken skin, toned body and enticing scent as they all called to him. His fingers tightened and he stroked himself harder, his breathing becoming harsher.

He was contemplating what to do next, his mouth inches from the lace she wore, when he felt the hair on the back of his neck prickle and stand on end.

Zuko's eyes moved from where Katara lay splayed to sweep his locked bedroom for signs of an intruder; all was silent, still.

He didn't trust it for a moment.

A vampire was most vulnerable when feeding; any otherworldly creature knew this was the most dangerous time of their day. Every creature knew to keep its wits about them when their flank was exposed, which was why Zuko didn't dismiss his instincts.

It was then that his senses started to come back to him.

He blinked, and shook the satisfied haze from his head, glancing down at the warm, soft body before him. And he suddenly realized what he'd done, and worse, been about to do.

Zuko felt a spear of horror and disgust at his own actions lance through him, and he stiffened up in a flash, breathing hard and eyes wide. His cock twitched in his grasp, and he yanked his hands away guiltily before stumbling back away from her, fists clenched.

Spirits, what had he done?

Another sharp sound caught his attention and distracted him, definitely from outside his room this time.

He raised his head to listen closer—

--just as his bedroom door crashed open, cracking and splintering before it collapsed under the crushing weight of a snarling beast.

The wild animal's gaze trained in on, and met, Zuko's incredulous one, panting hard and growling low in its throat. Zuko stared right back, tense, rising up over Katara to get a better angle to attack and defend her from whatever had just decimated his bedroom door.

Ah, it was Fluffy. Her cute, cuddly, 200-pound domesticated wild timber wolf. Fantastic.

The wolf who had just nearly caught him with his hands down his pants while he hovered over its master.

The wolf who was now looking at him like he wanted nothing more than to rip his throat out and chew out his liver.

…Shit.

Jet noticed first Katara's still form and undress.

The wolf's narrowed eyes shot back to Zuko, noting second the vampire's loose, open-front trousers and exposed business. The wolf's growl was nothing short of savage. No punishment would be too severe for the one who'd taken advantage of his mate.

Lips pulled back to reveal long, sharp canines.

Feral howling filled the room as Jet leapt at Zuko's pale, exposed throat.

Their shared intention towards the prey that lay helplessly between them on the bed was clear: _Mine_.

* * *

**TBC.**

**AN: This chapter first posted 25th August, 2009. (Er, yes, nearly 9 months since the last update – sorry!) For those who asked how I was doing and why this chapter is so late: I'm fine now but was in a car accident back in January, and then had my son in June; he was over 9 lbs, ouch! **

**AN2: Many, many thanks to Hyperoo for kicking my ass in gear & beta'ing this for me. Four times. (It needed the swift fist of concrit justice!) All errors are of course my own. Please let me know if you spot any! Also drop me a line if you have suggestions for future chapters – I kind of owe you guys for sticking with this fic so long!**

**AN3: To those who left comments, concrit & encouragement over the past few months: Thank you. You have no idea how much it meant when I'd get home from work or the hospital and see your notes to cheer me up. I appreciate and treasure every one. **

**I hope you enjoyed the chapter!**


	29. Chapter 29

**Author: moor / beyondthemoor on LJ  
Title: Merits  
Part : 28 or 29?  
Genre: Romance/humour/vamp/Modern AU  
Fandom: Avatar: TLA  
Pairing: Zutara, Jetara  
Length: 5400 words, approx.  
Rating: M  
Disclaimer : "Avatar: The Last Airbender" and all related rights belong to their original creators… I am not among their ranks.  
AN: In response to hyperroo' s vampire/Zutara challenge, I present…**

* * *

  
"**Merits" – Part 28 or 29**

Zuko saw stars as the back of his head crashed against the corner of the desk, before slumping to the floor on his back. The noise was incredible, part of the desk cracking, papers, pens, heavy paperweights and decorations flying off the now-damaged piece of solid oak furniture. They fell around the room in a disorderly mess, scattering over the thoroughly disoriented vampire prince. A few pictures fell from their nails in the wall and shattered on the ground. The racket was terrible, and it didn't stop there.

Distracted by his realizations of a few moments prior, the wolf had caught him off guard and seized on his advantage, rushing Zuko and tearing into him. The raging animal had even managed to grab hold of him with his teeth and throw him a certain distance, then followed and jumped on him before careening helplessly backwards into his desk.

On the bed just across from the struggling pair, Katara lay motionless, an arm listlessly dangling off the bedcovers, completely unaware of the fight waging so close by.

Throughout the scuffle, still the vampire's thoughts whirled through his bleary mind. What had he done to her? How could he have let himself prey on her, on the one he'd waited so long to have again? How badly had he damaged things between them?

In his haze, Zuko felt the heavy weight of the wolf's paws land on his shoulders again and he looked up into bright, fierce eyes. The beast's snout was inches from his neck, and Zuko could feel the rumbling snarl that was building in the huge animal's chest reverberate through him. Canine lips pulled back to reveal vicious, sharp teeth as spittle fell from the animal's mouth to drip downwards over him.

Deep inside himself, Zuko felt his luck sputter like a candle in a gusty wind. He deserved this. He really deserved this.

The thought repeated itself in Zuko's head over and over, and shamefully he accepted it. He wouldn't have bothered trying to fight the animal, but Katara hadn't regained consciousness yet – would it turn on her next? It was her pet, but bloodlust distorted a predator's perceptions, twisting them beyond reason.

He should know.

Closing his eyes a moment, Zuko took a deep breath and let it out slowly before he looked up and focused on the animal's gaze above him.

"I would let you kill me if I thought you could protect her," he admitted ruefully, patiently, to the animal that had him pinned. "But there are worse things than me that are out to get her."

And Zuko could hardly believe it, but he'd almost swear he saw the wolf's eyes widen in surprise, before narrowing at him.

"But she needs at least a human to fight off what's coming."

And with that, he was decided. Doubling his efforts, he raised his arms and grabbed the wolf's forelegs, tucking his legs up under the animal to kick him off, but the wolf was ready for him.

"Then you aren't needed after all," it snarled back in a husky voice. It was distorted, and furious, but it was clear enough for the vampire to make out every word. And the voice itself was unmistakable.

Zuko's eyes snapped open and his breath caught in his chest.

Was it really--?

It couldn't be, and yet, Zuko knew for certain it was. "Jet?" he said incredulously, starting to rise.

The 'were had other ideas.

* * *

Jet felt the savage fury fill his heart and flow through every part of his wolf form. He had the bastard right under him, neck exposed. It was the perfect time to end him, to punish him for what he'd done, and been about to do. When he'd heard her scream, when he'd smelled her blood, when he'd seen her splayed out for the vampire, and Zuko looming over her about to… he couldn't even articulate it. He had snapped. Nothing, he was sure nothing could have stopped him, calmed him, halted his murderous actions.

And then the asshole had to go and open his mouth and talk.

Reasonably, at that.

Inconsiderate louse.

But it wasn't over yet, because what had Zuko meant by 'worse things'?

"Worse than you, Zuko? Really? That's gotta be pretty fucking awful then. Because everything was going great between me and Katara until you came along," he spat, panting harshly from his fight with the vampire. He had a feeling the only reason he'd managed to best the well-fed predator a moment prior was because he'd caught him by surprise. He wanted to press the advantage, but more than that, he wanted the bastard to know why he should die.

However most of all he _needed_ to know how to protect Katara, and from what. Trying to get that information would expose her as his most vulnerable weakness, unfortunately; and the cyclical dilemma made Jet that much angrier. In Jet's eyes, Zuko was the cause of so many problems, yet may also be the only way he'd find out how to possibly resolve things, since Jet had burned his bridge with Long Feng. He may not trust Zuko, but he trusted the snake-like man even less. Which meant Jet couldn't kill Zuko. Yet. Still, that didn't mean he was going to take it easy on the subdued vampire for preying on his loved one.

With a snarl, Jet sunk his claws deeper into Zuko's shoulders, feeling the skin burst and shred beneath them, smelling the blood that was released through the cuts.

"If it wasn't for you, she would have been safe!" he challenged, lowering his face to Zuko's.

Beneath him, Zuko's mouth opened to protest this, but Jet would have none of it and with his front paws slammed the vampire beneath him to the ground again.

"If it wasn't for you, I would have been the one who protected her!"

Another slam. Behind his eyes, Zuko saw stars and winced as the claws tightened further into the muscles of his shoulders. While vampires healed quickly, they weren't immune to pain.

"If it wasn't for you, she would have come to me for help, to me for sanctuary, to me for everything she needed, wanted, loved."

Breathing hard, Jet felt his anger ebb and flow away from him, and his head drooped, and his eyes closed for a brief second as he gathered himself and breathed out, long and low.

"… but if it wasn't for you, she would have died, wouldn't she?... Back in her apartment…"

Chest heaving, Zuko felt the grip on his shoulders loosen, and slip off as Jet stepped off him and turned away to look at Katara. His tail swept slowly from side to side, too relieved to hear her breathing normally to pay further attention to his revenge for the time being.

"I want to kill you," he admitted calmly to Zuko, glancing back at the vampire still laid out on his back on the floor. "… But I need her so much more. And she… needs you."

Zuko closed his eyes and let out a long, low breath just as Jet had. Almost release and consolation in one. It was a few minutes before he spoke.

"I'll look away if you want to change." _I think we should talk_, went unspoken between the men.

Jet's wolf-form nodded.

Together, the men sat down.

* * *

"I've never met anyone like her," said Jet.

They were still in Zuko's room, both in human form again. The pair of otherworldly adults had both moved closer to Katara, and by some unspoken agreement neither touched her once Jet had pulled the blankets up to cover her. Officially he was still her boyfriend; it was more than Zuko could claim (without getting into another scuffle over who had the most valid, long-standing claim on the woman). And—should Katara wake up during said argument—Zuko didn't see the object of their mutual desire reacting well to either of them starting that quarrel in the first place; the terms 'chauvinistic pissing contest' and 'I don't belong to either of you assholes' would likely feature prominently in the subsequent rant…

For his part, Zuko wasn't sure how to respond to Jet's comment, so he waited for the 'were to continue. He didn't feel it would go over well to admit he'd loved the woman between them for over 150 years. It may come across as a bit obsessive or stalker-ish. No, he decided internally while he rested against the broken desk, he may need to finesse his situation a bit.

"I thought you were a pretty cool guy, when we first met. A bit of a chip on your shoulder, but I'm the same way," Jet grinned a bit distantly to himself in memory. "I guess I thought I'd found someone a bit like me. She was always pissed at or about you, you know, and I wanted to see what it was you had that captivated her. Maybe I'd see what it was that she saw in me. Common ground."

There was a pause, and Zuko saw a wave of emotions flow across Jet's face. "Unless she was just looking for another 'fix-it' project."

"How long have you known her?" the vampire found himself asking Jet. He wanted to know more about Katara, too – and speaking to the man in front of him, his rival in a sense, was too tempting to pass up. Like Jet, he was comparing his own situation to another, to try and determine the similarities. To try and figure out how Katara 'ticked'.

"How did you meet?"

The look on Jet's face darkened; but it was the way his eyebrows dipped and tightened, the way he clenched his jaw and swallowed, and looked away, that gave it away. He was another who was ashamed of his past.

Zuko recognized the look, and the feeling behind it, immediately. So much like his own.

Jet adjusted Katara's covers minutely, more as something to occupy himself than anything else, before he spoke.

"You know Katara specializes in family medicine? She's really good. She did a lot of volunteer work, even had a few jobs in different medical facilities as an assistant and stuff to help pay her way through school when her scholarship didn't cover her."

Zuko nodded, he knew through Katara's classes what her focus was. But what it had to do with Jet…

"She's really good," repeated Jet. Zuko watched the man across from him closely as he nodded to himself, as if convincing some inner part of himself it was ok, safe, to divulge such personal information to the vampire. "I… You can see I'm a werewolf."

Stating the obvious and stalling. Zuko was tempted to make a 'no shit, Sherlock'-type retort, but held back. He really wasn't one to comment about stalling… He schooled his features into one of patient understanding.

The look in Zuko's eyes must have convinced Jet he was trustworthy enough, because he continued brokenly.

Jet looked over to Katara for a moment, as if gaining strength from her presence. "I was a bit wild when I was younger. Even for a werewolf. I was always causing trouble, at first nothing major, but then it got more serious. For a werewolf, where control over oneself is so important, to deliberately taunt that balance, to join up with regular thugs and gangs who pit themselves against each other and use us as muscle to get their own way, it turned me into a target. For a while, no one cared or really noticed. But when they did… it was like inviting even more trouble. It got pretty brutal. Things escalated. And when I'd go home after those fights, the other gangs would send someone to follow me."

"You endangered your pack?"

"I took care of it!" snapped Jet defensively, before he caught himself.

Rubbing a hand roughly through his hair, Jet pulled on it for a second as if to try and calm himself. He swallowed again.

"My pack. Back around the turn of the twentieth century, there was a group of wolves who lived near one of the native tribe reservations. We were a werewolf pack, but at that time we spent a good deal of our time with the tribe, protecting them, and they in turn shared their hunting grounds with us so we wouldn't have to venture out close to the towns where the trading and hunting took place. We were part of their totem. Game was getting more scarce at that time, and our arrangement worked out to be mutually beneficial. The pack was trying to decide whether to subjugate their wolf-forms, abandon their 'were-dom as it were, and move into the new cities and towns; to conform and integrate into the human society completely. The pack was dwindling in numbers, and it was getting harder to feed everyone when there were fewer to do the hunting. Even with the tribe's help, they weren't able to protect themselves the way they needed. Especially the really young children, the pups, they just couldn't…"

His voice trailed off, and Zuko was shocked to see the emotion working around Jet's mouth.

The werewolf tugged at his hair again, rubbed at his eyes.

"The pack had finally decided to integrate; they'd explained things to the tribe, and the tribe had wished them well, and even given them some supplies and money to help them get themselves established."

Around the two men, the house had settled and gone quiet. It had shifted to afternoon by this time, and the still short days meant the sunlight was already waning, the brightness shifting to darkness around the confining room. Their shadows cast longer; the men sat very still as the story unfurled.

"It happened when I was away from camp, near one of the settlements, raising Hell. It was fun for me, I was so much stronger than everyone else I could do what I wanted. I always brought things back for the pack to help, but they thought I was stealing. Then someone from one of the rival gangs realized I wasn't normal, that I was a 'were, which meant I had a pack nearby."

Zuko had started putting two and two together, and listened grimly to the rest with his hands closed into loose fists in his lap.

"They teamed up with some poachers. At first I wasn't worried. But then they brought in some rogue vampire crest. They wiped out the pack. Traps, guns, poison, ambushes, you name it, they did it. They hung the pelts out to dry, beheaded. Even the pups, and it was illegal to hunt them. We were an endangered species of wolf, but they didn't care. Even the innocent babies, the youngest ones, they couldn't even fully shift yet…"

The vampire's fists slowly tightened, knowing all too well where the history was leading.

"I tried. I tried to stop them. To save them. But I was too late."

Zuko looked away from the guilt-ridden man to give his grief some privacy. He'd heard of such purges before, not just in werewolf packs, but in witch covens, vampire enclaves, and other groups. They were outlawed unless carried out by the Guardians, a group that tried to maintain a balance between the humans and otherworlds. The Guardians were the ones to conduct the exterminations – but only when the situation was irreparable and dangerous to all involved. This particular genocide, on Jet's pack, was obviously personal and vindictive. And to think the pack had been about to integrate themselves into human society… It sickened the vampire lord, and Zuko felt the pressure build behind his own eyes in sympathy. Everyone knew family, the pack, was paramount in werewolf society. The strike had hit at the heart of the werewolf culture.

"I'm not actually a timber wolf like Katara thinks. I'm what's called a 'white wolf'. We protected some of the north eastern forests, but not as high up as the Northern Territories. We were declared extinct around 1911."

Zuko's eyes shot to Jet's.

"You mean, you're--."

"I'm over a hundred years old." A pause. "Like you."

Jet watched Zuko's reactions carefully, and finally smirked at the other man's silence.

"I told you we had a lot in common."

* * *

Zuko's mind reeled at the admission, and he felt his head bang softly back against the desk behind him.

"That's impossible," he argued in confusion. He stared at the ceiling and tried to think through his bewilderment. "Vampires are the only immortals… and even then, it isn't as if we're indestructible. We age. We can perish. The only way someone else can benefit from our immortality is if they…"

His level golden eyes stared at the werewolf as the insinuation sunk in. But how? Then it hit him.

"The rogues."

Jet gave the barest nod, and his eyes hardened.

"They deserved it."

A sense of revulsion nearly overwhelmed the vampire in that moment, but he forced it back. No wonder Jet had gone for his throat when he'd discovered him feeding on Katara. He was lucky to be alive.

It took some time for him to absorb the influx of information and history. Jet's story wasn't unusual or, unfortunately, uncommon from the time period – Zuko had been fully aware of such happenings while he'd travelled; he'd simply chosen to ignore the rumours, preferring to remain independent of them. His decision, now that he'd met a survivor from one of the illegal raids, no longer felt as honourable as it once had. He hadn't participated in any of them, hadn't wiped any of the packs out in a crimson-hazed bloodlust; but he hadn't stepped in to ever prevent one from occurring, either.

"What did you do after? There's nearly a century-long gap between then and now… How does Katara fit into it?"

"Drugs," Jet said simply. The emotion had drained from him by now, and he leaned back against the bed. He still sat on the floor, but tilted his head slightly to check on Katara again. He watched the rise and fall of her chest for a bit to calm himself. He couldn't remember the last time he'd spoken of the raid with any lucidity. Drugged-out rantings, inebriated fits—no wonder he'd ended up committed so often—but never calmly with another. The tension in his chest made him want to clutch at his heart, but he refused to show such weakness in front of Zuko.

"By the time I finished tracking down the last of the rogues… finishing him… their 'immortality' had started working on me. It isn't a pleasant process, FYI. I was so sick I thought I was dying anyway. And crazy. I started taking drugs to try and escape some of the memories, the nightmares. And physically, it hurt like Hell. The drugs numbed everything. Eventually I learned to like the haze more than the reality.

"I couldn't control the shifting for a while. I went mad. I spent some time in institutions, but usually managed to escape and would run off again and back into the drugs. Deeper, harder, more self-destructive each time. It was a bad cycle. And yet I couldn't seem to kill myself. I think I…" He drifted off a moment, deep in thought. "I did a lot of things I will never be able to make up for." The werewolf found himself looking away from Katara as he admitted the latter.

"She found me in a rehab wing about 2 years ago; completely delusional. I found out, as I sobered up there, that she'd been one of the volunteers assigned to help look after me. I had planned on using her to get out of there, but the minute she touched my arm, I felt something. A jolt. It was some kind of weird connection. It was like forest rain and lightning and waterfalls all at once, and for the first time since I'd lost my pack I felt at peace. I saw clearly."

Jet was back to looking at Katara again, and so missed the look of surprise, then concern that spread across Zuko's face. That feeling, it couldn't be true, thought Zuko… It must have been some kind of drug-related hallucination, or, or…

It couldn't be what he feared. What he dreaded. What he wanted for himself.

But Zuko would be wrong.

"It took months, but I finally cleaned myself up. Katara even came with me to my trials to give witness testimonies about my character and improvements, and with her help I managed to get most of my pending criminal charges dropped after they saw that I'd been under the influence. Not all of them, so I do have a record, but the worst ones, the assaults and things, were dropped down. She was there through all of it," the awe and raw appreciation in his voice were unmistakable. Zuko felt his heart tighten in his chest. He fought to keep his face impassive.

"When I finally got myself settled, I took a few courses, got an apprenticeship, and invited her out to celebrate with my first real paycheque," at that, he smiled in memory.

"I found out she works a lot with addiction and rehab cases because she saw so much of it on her reservation growing up. It's a real problem up there. And she made a huge difference at the clinic I was in. I really mean it, it was amazing. They've been trying to get her to come back part-time since she left, but she's pretty focused on finishing her studies. She wasn't even going out much at all until…" The sentence went unfinished, and he looked back to Zuko again.

"When you moved in to the department, to her office, she changed. She became so volatile, so angry. It was such a contrast; don't get me wrong, I love her fire," his eyes flickered with amusement at some private memory, "but she has become so… weak, overly emotional, and run down since you came into her life. She wasn't like that before. She loved healing people before – it was what she lived for, to heal and help those who needed it. She has a gift. Whatever she touches, whoever she reaches out to, she can heal. She's like magic."

That was exactly what Zuko had been afraid of.

"It wears her out, though. I'm kind of glad she gave up her clinical hours for the term and accepted a lab instead."

The vampire nodded at Jet's rambling. It was very good for Katara to have decided that, though she probably didn't realize herself how important that decision was at the time.

"You probably already know this," started Jet again, his dark eyes now focused on Zuko. "But werewolves… our pack, our family is our most prized 'possession', if you can call it that. We live for our pack. Everything we do is done for the pack. I'm the only one left of mine. I thought my clan would die out with me. And while I deserved to die, the rest of my pack didn't. They deserve to be remembered and revered—they were so compassionate and such good people. And the only way I can redeem myself is to honour their memory and traditions, to try again and this time, to do things right. To become the best man I can. To show that I did learn what they taught me, that I can represent my pack proudly."

Zuko's heart gave a solid thud in his chest. He didn't like the turn the conversation had taken, and felt himself grow fractionally tenser with dread. It was sounding like Jet intended to show someone specific. But he had no pack left. And if he had no pack left, what was left for him?  
Of course Jet had his own plans, and enlightened his host.

"If I have the chance, I want to make it up to my pack. I want to start over, to show them I'm a better person now. I want to be the one that young wolves, pups, look up to and admire. I want to be their role model, I want to provide for them, and I want to show them how proud they should be to be who they are."

Determination and purpose filled Jet's voice, and he held Zuko's gaze.

His tone became hard as he stared at the vampire across from him.

"And I'd found the person who could help me achieve all that. Who could help me settle, and come to terms with, the biggest mistake I ever made. The person I want to spend the rest of my life with, to re-establish my pack with, to love and give my name to and devote every part of myself to, is lying unconscious on this bed because you took advantage of her compassion, you took advantage of her trust, and _you nearly fucked her while she was passed out after coming in here to help you._"

Every word was true; Zuko didn't even try to deny it as he saw Jet nearly shaking in anger. His behaviour had been despicable and disgusting. There would never be any way to excuse it, and he didn't try. And unlike Jet, he didn't know how to go about fixing what he'd done, either.

"So, I need to know, right now, what your intentions are and why the Hell you thought what you nearly did was OK," the furious, though tenuously controlled, werewolf demanded.

The dark-eyed man's fists were clenched tightly at his sides, and while he leaned back against the bed he was anything but relaxed. He wanted to attack and enact some divine-caliber retribution on the rival across from him, and in a way, the intended recipient wanted him to do it, too. Perhaps that would help alleviate some of his guilt?

But something in Zuko resisted. And something greater wanted to rip the werewolf apart for daring to infringe on what he considered his.

Yes, Katara was his. Long ago, she had promised him she would wait for him, and he for her; and while times had certainly changed he would never give her up, or break their promise, without fighting for it.

The way she looked so much like she had before, the way she drove him to insanity, the way she had automatically been drawn to him in their office—constantly trying to get his attention, trying to offer him coffee, trying to ingratiate herself with him—and when he'd resurrected her, the way she'd so actively participated with him, until her consciousness overruled her subconscious instinctive reactions to him. She was his still and always would be – she just didn't know it. But he would show her.

He just had to get rid of this irritating obstruction first.

"I'd appreciate it if you wouldn't build your plans revolving around my Katara," remarked Zuko coldly as he fixed Jet with a dark look. Possession dripped from his words and he knew the werewolf's territorial hackles were raised when he stiffened.

"'Your' Katara?" growled Jet, leaning forward. "How is she yours?"

And it was a low blow, the prince knew it before it passed through his sneering lips, but he said it anyway. "She stopped sleeping in your bed and moved to mine, didn't she?"

"You son of a—!"

Their control snapped, and both men lunged for each other.

"I should have killed you when I had the chance," snarled Jet, grabbing Zuko's shirt-front in his fists and yanking him to get him off-balance.

"You need second chances to do everything," scoffed Zuko, unconcerned that the werewolf intended to tear him apart.

Neither noticed their position, other than trying to keep the other away from Katara.

"You think you know everything, don't you? Well, you don't know me, and you sure as Hell don't know her! Stay away from her, we don't need you."

"She does need me, she loves me."

What little hadn't been disturbed in the room during their last battle now smashed and was destroyed under their wild swinging and lunging. The day, and room, had darkened by now and no one had lit a lamp, but with their enhanced eyesight the men didn't need it to see their environment – not that either was paying it much attention. Most of the bedroom had been destroyed already. Still they raged at each other, their blows escalating in cruelty as they taunted and struck each other, tearing off strips of skin until each saw bone. Blood ran down both men's arms and faces; one of Jet's eyes was swollen, while one of Zuko's hands was broken. Neither let up. The bloodlust called to them, inciting more.

"No, she doesn't. She has a debt to you, an infatuation with you, but she will never love you, and you will never love her the way I do!"

Back and forth they wrestled, punches flying and legs tangled as they tried to subdue each other, oblivious to the girl stirring into consciousness on the bed.

"I do love her! I have always loved her, and she is everything to me!" yelled Zuko wildly. The pair teetered precariously, wrestling and clawing at each other as their otherworldly states started to overtake them both. Claws and fangs and strength swelled and collided, and they staggered, edging towards one of the outer walls which was lined with windows. The carpet was a wasteland of rubble and was slowly soaking crimson as they staggered across it.

"You barely know her! You've worked together for barely a month," burst out Jet incredulously. "So stay away from my future wife."

And it was upon hearing _that_ again, that disgusting claim over _his_ Katara, that unleashed the terrible curse.

Zuko felt his heart constrict sharply, then release with a sudden spike; and at that moment fire funneled through his veins to his hands as they sparked, then lit up with flames, a long-dormant power finally re-awakening in his primal state. It was never supposed to be used like this, in petty jealousy, but he didn't care anymore. In his vision all he saw was Jet's interference.

"I do know her, and better than you do!" Zuko grabbed for Jet's shoulders and his eyes locked on the rampaging werewolf's as he added, "and Katara will never be your wife. She's always been mine." The fires leapt down his fingers and sizzled as they found purchase again in the skin of Jet's shoulders; the flames licked down the werewolf's ragged shirt and then flared as they reached his flesh, searing and burning and turning everything they scorched black.

"How!" howled Jet, clearly in pain while his hand closed in around Zuko's throat.

And neither was sure whether Jet referred to Zuko's possessive statements or his pyrokinetic control, but the vampire answered both regardless.

"We're soulmates!" Zuko roared, eyes blazing.

And with that, he shoved Jet backwards, plunging them both (though Jet first) through the window. The pane exploded outward and both men flew over the snowy yard, the shower of glass raining around them and tinkling as they crashed on the frozen ground below.

"What…?"

And so neither man, then, heard the fairly weak voice. Feminine voice.

Blue orbs tried to focus in the dim room, the sudden chill stimulating her senses and making her more alert; still disoriented, she brought the covers up closer around her.

"We're… what?" asked Katara.

* * *

**TBC.**

AN: Happy Oktoberfest! This chapter posted Oct 8-9-ish, 2009. Ok, nearly a 2-month wait…. But better than 9 months… sort of?

Also, I apologise; I have it on good authority this chapter is suck-tastic, but I will do my best to write a lemon—or hell, commission one from someone who writes them very well—to make it up to you later! (If anyone wants to help me write apology porn, please submit resume to me via PM. XD)

As always, concrit's much appreciated.


	30. Chapter 30

**Chapter 30**

"See something familiar?"

Katara startled as Jet leaned across her lap to look through the small window. "What?" she asked.

"You've been staring out the window for half an hour. I just wondered what you were seeing." He smiled at her and she tried to smile back, then sighed.

"I'm just…"

"Thinking." He took her hand, stroked the back of it comfortingly. "I know. I told you to take your time. I want you to be sure."

She nodded and turned back to the window, watching rolling forest and shining lakes pass below the plane. _Home_, she thought, the late afternoon colors stirring her memories. Her family's home, in the territories – she'd been away for too long, but something felt wrong even as they approached.

"I guess I'm just worried," she said finally, not looking at her boyfriend. _Fiancé_, she reminded herself, though technically she hadn't accepted yet.

"Don't worry – your family will _love_ me," he said confidently, and she smiled.

"I know. I just…"

"Is this about your vampire novel again?" he asked, and she scowled.

"It's a _scholarly research paper_ about a very real _disease_ and very real historical _events_," she repeated irritably. "And I'm sure Master Storyteller And Historian _Pakku_won't refuse to talk with me once I explain what I'm trying to do."

Jet only smiled and squeezed her hand, and she returned to staring out the window.

* * *

He came the first time when the air held a promise of spring, the land coming back to life beneath melting snow. Water that all winter had been held still and frozen now roused slowly in drips and trickles, small motions that Lady Yue, Speaker for the People, Beloved of the Moon, could feel stretching in all directions from her tent.

She tried to concentrate on the boy in front of her. "Remember to _always_ test the ice, no matter how thick it looks – especially this time of year."

"Yes, Lady," the child responded, and Yue smiled as she ruffled his hair.

"Get back to your mother," she said as the child scowled and ducked out of the tent, and Yue pulled the furs back into place. The smile slipped from her face as she ran her hands through her hair, settled back onto her heels and closed her eyes to feel water flow with the return of the sun. _Hungry season_, she thought, apprehension weighing her down. _We'll make it to summer. We always do._

This year, though…

Yue felt the pinch of hunger in her own belly as she leaned forward to her offering box, moved gifts and trinkets aside to slide the lid off, removed precious incense thick with smells of the south.

_Hear me_, she thought as sweet smoke filled her tent. _Our food is almost gone, the land weakens with this foreign sickness, and we grow too weak to fight these little hurts that never used to trouble us. You made the Water Tribe strong, but I fear not strong enough if these trials continue._

Angry voices beyond the tent broke Yue's reverie; she startled, then stretched. Outside, pale late afternoon sun held a whisper of coming warmth, but the shadows stretched cold and blue across the snow, moving over the land with winter's early dark. Yue slipped her parka the rest of the way over her shoulders and walked towards the commotion. One of her status could never _run_, but she did hurry as the voices grew louder, angrier.

Her father stood before his tent, arms crossed and defiant; beside him stood the Protector, angry and growling in the way of his kind, belying the human form he wore in the camp. Yue stepped around another tent, curious to see who they faced: a man, his back to her, his posture proud, arrogant, demanding; one hand raised to gesture angrily.

The other hand, Yue noted as she moved closer, was wrapped in bloody bandages and cradled against his chest. _He's here to see me_, she realized, and sighed, slowing her steps. _Another outsider to buy my time_.

He turned then, as if sensing her presence, his eyes finding hers as if he knew she was there – yellow eyes, the color of sunset, and around him her spirit-touched senses saw his aura, blazing to match and threaded with the shimmer of immortality. Her blood ran cold.

_He's one of the demons._

His stare searched her a moment longer before it slid away, returning to her father and the Protector. _Haggling_, she thought angrily, but then she saw his sledge, laden with bundles and pelts; the carcasses of animals from across the great river plain, far from the sickness that stalked her tribe. She remembered the gaunt faces around the evening fires, the thin wrist of the child she'd healed, bones too sharp beneath dry skin.

_Oh spirits_, she thought wearily, but knew not to question when she had begged for help.

Still her father and the Protector argued, gesturing away from the village, their message clear: _leave_. Yue steeled herself and stepped quietly between them; she raised her arms and folded them before her and they fell into silence, the Protector's sharp breaths belying his anger.

She looked up to meet the demon's eyes again; he held her gaze without flinching, the arrogance in his face matching that in his posture. Already she could hear the village emerging, children staring at the food on the sledge with the desperation of hungry season.

Yue nodded once, slowly, and watched his expression change briefly, understanding and triumph.

"I will see you, stranger."

* * *

"_Zuko!_"

He lay outside, sprawled in the snow beside another man as Katara fumbled with the door catch. "_Spirits_," she whispered as she saw the blood splashed around them; she finally figured out how to open the lock, slide the strange door back. She felt Zuko's irritation over the faint throb of pain and almost smiled to herself as she waded through the snow.

The strange man's injuries were deep, though, and she wondered what had attacked them – the mountain cats? Bears? _Wolves_ certainly wouldn't have attacked travelers through The Water Tribe's land. "What happened?" Katara asked as she dropped to her knees between them. "No, never mind – don't speak yet."

She drew water from the snow and reached out to the stranger, who stared at her with wide eyes. She smiled at him as the water began to glow, then looked quickly at Zuko. "Hang on, my love."

"Holy shit," Jet breathed as Katara lay a hand across his bleeding arm where loose skin dangled from the flesh beneath. "Katara, I can't understand you – I didn't even know you spoke a foreign language – oh _shit_," he repeated as the water beneath her hands began to glow. She looked at him and smiled, said something soothing, but he saw no recognition in her eyes.

"Katara, what are you _doing_?" he started, but Zuko interrupted him, speaking in the same language she'd just used. She shook her head and smiled again and Jet would have _given_ anything to know what passed between them in those moments.

"Katara, we'll be fine – you need to save your strength," Zuko told her, even as he tried to dampen his joy at feeling her presence, her essence, her very _mind_ brush against his again. _She doesn't_know_, she doesn't_remember_, hold it together, Zuko, you can't lose her now_...

The bond had surged back to life as he lay gasping on the snow; now as Jet's flesh knit back together beneath her hands, Zuko longed to touch her, to gather her into him and never again let go. He forced himself to remain still as he breathed in her scent, remembered the taste of her blood and the sound of her sighs, though he kept his face turned carefully away from her.

"You may not need my help, but _he_ does," she answered, smiling at him and he lost himself in her eyes, her vivid blue eyes that had haunted him for more than a century, the years falling away as Katara – _his Katara_ – looked at him across such a short distance that –

– but Jet was there, turning Katara's attention from him as was becoming an _irritating_ habit. "Zuko," he hissed angrily, "What's happening? What's she _doing_? Why isn't she answering me?"

"She doesn't recognize you. She doesn't even _understand_ you," Zuko said softly, and Katara looked up at him to quirk her brow at the "foreign" language; he shrugged and she turned back to Jet, moving her hands to a gaping wound along his shoulder.

"The _hell_ she doesn't – and what's with the glowing? Is she a _witch_? She never mentioned anything about that, and this is more than just magic, this is –"

"Jet…" Zuko started, and met his eyes for an instant before turning back to Katara. _Wolves_, he thought irritably, and sighed again. "She's not who you think she is."

Jet, blessedly said no more, only stared as Katara turned her attention to where Zuko had raked his claws across Jet's side. The vicious wounds were already sealing over but she healed them anyway and Zuko pulled himself back to fully human form before she patted Jet's knee comfortingly and turned to Zuko.

She touched his arm, studying the deep teeth marks there before healing them with a pass of her hand, then reached up to touch his cheek. Zuko felt a cool tingle there that made him shiver with memory as faint throbbing pain vanished. She tilted her head at him and he tried to smile; she frowned and took his chin and turned his face towards her fully.

Her eyes went instantly to the scar and she gasped. Her hands were on it before he could turn away. "What _happened_, Zuko?" she demanded as he felt water spread over it but no healing tingle followed. Her brow furrowed and she drew more water up from the snow. "Who _did_ this to you? When did it happen?" He felt her exhaustion overwhelming her frustration, trickling into his mind through the bond pulsing between them. "Why isn't it healing?"

Zuko caught her hand and kissed it. "It's fine, for now." He caught her eyes, too, and nudged her focus to him, rather than the scar, and she smiled for a moment before slumping forward.

Jet lunged forward as if to catch her but Zuko already had her in his arms. "Thank you, my love," she whispered, and Zuko pulled her closer as he felt her heartbeat beside his for an instant, the bond throbbing with it. Then she closed her eyes and sighed and slipped into unconsciousness; the whisper of her mind against his flickered and disappeared like a candle caught by a strong draft, and Zuko let his tears fall on her hair.

* * *

_Why is he here_? Yue thought as she drew back her tent flap and allowed the stranger entrance. _Demons don't get sick_. They hadn't even seen one in decades, not since the raids that decimated the people in her grandmother's time.

Yue gestured for him to take off his boots, then at the healing mat, opposite the tent from her private space. As chief's daughter and Speaker for the People, her tent was spacious, richly decorated with furs and baskets, lanterns and beads as befit her status, and allowed her to see those in need of healing in private. The demon sat deliberately and watched as she fastened the tent flap, removed her own boots and settled onto the furs that lined the floor. He didn't speak, didn't move; just watched, his face smooth and expressionless and unnaturally handsome, like polished ivory. _Like the wraiths who lure women from their husbands_, she thought, remembering the old legends.

"Why are you here?" Yue finally asked.

He stared at her a moment longer, then shook his head and extended his hand, the one wrapped in bandages. "I suffered an accident," he said, voice low and deep.

She glanced at him again but his face hadn't changed; she watched his face, then took his hand, carefully unwound the bandages and tried to treat him like any other who needed her help. The gash across his palm was deep and nasty, made with a ragged blade like that of a scraping knife. It still oozed blood, but Yue could see the edges already knitting together, healing with supernatural speed.

_Demon_, she reminded herself as she sought out the meridians, felt the pulses of life flowing though his veins. _Why did he come to me_?

Her grandmother's tales rose in her memory again, stories of how the demons had hunted their tribe through forest and tundra. She formed his face in her mind, the way he had almost smiled; his teeth were very white and perhaps rather sharp but weren't elongated to fangs. The hand she held lacked claws, the slope of his back the leathery wings of her tribe's nightmares. He'd stared at her face, not her neck, and his eyes had held intensity, rather than the empty hunger of nightmares past.

_Healing, Yue_, she chided herself, and released his wrist; she drew water to her hands and smoothed it over the torn flesh. The wound was hardly worth healing, but she let her water help the process already under way beneath his skin. She risked a glance up at his face, then hastily looked back down and tried to focus on the healing, rather than the interest in his eyes.

* * *

Jet watched her stare out the window again, trying not to worry. He hadn't meant to ask her to marry him, but how could he have done differently, after _that_…

He tried to push aside the remembered anguish in Zuko's eyes as he held her, _clung_ to her like a drowning man. _He's a vampire_, Jet reminded himself. _He has no right to her – his kind lies and takes as it suits them_.

He'd hoped that Katara wouldn't remember, that whatever past she had with Zuko wouldn't resurface, and so far it hadn't. She'd smiled and kissed him when he finally gave her the ring; had lain with him that night and tried to reassure him that she just needed a little time to _think_ about it before she decided.

The ring rested in his pocket now as Jet stroked her hand, but he couldn't help but worry as she didn't respond.

_She can't remember_, he thought desperately. _She can't._

_

* * *

_

Yue braced herself as she entered her father's great tent that night. He looked up as she entered, worry creased on his brow, and she smiled tiredly. His expression relaxed and he smiled in response before turning back to his conversation.

The Protector entered the tent soon after her and took his place beside her as she ate. "He's resting," she said quickly.

"He shouldn't be here."

"He paid fairly for services we've given others."

"It doesn't matter. You shouldn't have seen him."

A warrior caught his attention and Yue suppressed a sigh as he turned away. The Protector would see what he would see, regardless of what she tried to show.

She slipped away from the great tent during the evening's songs, pulling her parka tight against the cold. Her own tent lay only a short distance away but she shivered as she drew the flap closed behind her. The stranger slept, stretched on his side, blankets still folded beside him. Yue bent to touch his wrist lightly, feel the currents pulsing there; she nodded in satisfaction as she rose and stepped quietly into her private space.

She tried to meditate, to listen for any advice from the spirits, but her mind felt too scattered, her thoughts too tumultuous. She finally gave up and slipped off her parka and settled into her sleeping furs.

_I didn't know demons slept._

_

* * *

_

The stranger waited until Yue's quiet breaths deepened, her heartbeat slowed in the still air.

He approached silently, slipping past the hanging panels that separated her space from his, and slid through the shadows to her side. He shifted the furs pulled up around her head to trace her cheek, the pulse in her neck, and she murmured in her sleep, shifting beneath his fingertips.

He sat back on his heels, clenching his fists to keep from tasting her, this time. The change took trust as well as blood, but the remembered teaching warred with new desire._You're more beautiful than I expected_, he thought, daring to stroke her cheek again.

_I should just leave_, he told himself, the crucial first contact successful, but instead he sat beside her late into the night, watching her. He saw the way her brow furrowed even in sleep, the way her lips and eyes twitched as if haunted by the dreams he felt in the air between them, and he reached out, trying to soothe her mind.

He finally tore himself away as dawn pulsed just beyond the horizon; he hadn't meant to stay so long. The empty sledge bounced and shuddered through slushy snow even as his own feet were silent, and he soon left the camp far behind. Her sleeping face lingered in his memory and he tried to think instead about his assignment, his duty and the rewards – his _birth right_ – that waited for him after completing this one small task. _Soon, they'll see_.

**TBC.  


* * *

**

This chapter originally posted Jan 31, 2010. I apologise sincerely for the cliche'd suckage of that chapter.

We re-edited, re-uploaded March 9th, 2010. This chapter was written by sharkflip, though all errors are my own since I edited & approved it. Please show her some love when we upload the next chapter this weekend! (The next 2-3 chapters are already written, too – we're just doing some last-minute spelling/grammar tweaking so they'll be ready to go!)

Thanks! -mm


	31. Chapter 31

**Chapter 31**

He came back when the weather had turned clear and warm in the way of late spring, the nights still chilly in the way of the north. The summer solstice neared, bathing the land in sunlight and making him restless.

The village seemed livelier as he approached, the cluster of tents seemingly less impoverished when surrounded by budding foliage and early flowers. He took care to favor his aching shoulder and told himself that it was only natural to look forward to seeing her; this _Yue_ held the key to his future, after all.

He sensed the absence of the tribe's warriors, the beasts who walked in human flesh beside them, and none stepped forward to challenge him until he reached the center of the settlement. Yue sat on furs and blankets, children gathered before her; she looked up to meet his gaze with surprise written on her face. He nodded at the sledge behind him, tried to let his face show pain and exhaustion, and she turned to the girl sitting beside her to speak quickly.

The girl nodded and Yue rose gracefully to her feet, gesturing for him to follow through the winding avenue between tents. Finally, she closed the flap behind them and stood for a moment to regard him, the light dim but her eyes sharp.

"Why are you here?"

"I…" he paused, and she quirked her brow.

"Suffered an accident?"

He hid his frown. "Of sorts." He started to shrug off his shirt, wincing dramatically; he bit back a hiss just to watch her face crease with concern. "I took a fall –"

"Dislocated, I think," she said, ignoring him and examining the shoulder, the bruising and swelling that marked it. He hid his smile this time as she pushed his shirt collar aside, but her expression betrayed no embarrassment, no maiden's blush at seeing a man's skin. Instead it held a healer's calm regard.

"Yes, dislocated." She sat back on her heels. "Lay down."

He frowned. _Surely_ –

"It needs to be reset before anything else. It's easier and more comfortable if you lay on your back." She waited, her eyes betraying nothing but patience, and he lay back, realizing only after he'd settled that he should have winced.

"Good. Now." She leaned forward to take his wrist firmly in one hand, place the other against his shoulder, as her hair spilled forward to frame her face. "This will hurt, but I'm sure you'll be able to bear it. Just remember, it will feel much better afterwards." She didn't wait for an answer and instead guided his hand up, then in, then out.

He grit his teeth as pain – _real_ pain – shot through his arm and back, then relaxed as _something_ slipped back into place and the discomfort ebbed. Yue sat back on her heels again, her expression satisfied as she drew water to her hands. "This is the easy part," she said reassuringly, and he closed his eyes as water washed soothingly over his skin, her fingertips barely touching him through the fluid.

It ended too soon, a splash and a rustle of skins indicating she'd moved away, and he sat up, pulled his shirt back on. "Did you need to rest?" she asked.

He nodded. "If I may."

***

Yue lay awake that night, listening to the demon's steady breathing, trying fruitlessly to banish him from her head. _He was baiting me_, she realized, irritated to find less immune than she would have liked. Still, he hadn't acted improperly, and seemed genuinely grateful for the care.

She sighed and rolled over again, pulled her furs over her head to block out the sounds of him. _Are all demons like this_?

***

The stranger again waited, listening as Yue's breaths finally deepened, her restless turning ceased. He smiled inwardly, amused that he had affected her despite her calm healer's demeanor, and rose silently. She lay sprawled across her furs, long hair in disarray, bare arms crossed to pillow her head, and he paused to admire her. _What a prize you will be_.

He smoothed the hair from her face with careful fingers, leaned down to breath her in, listen to the pulse of blood through her veins, beckoning. _Yes_, he thought, his teeth elongating, sharp tips sliding along his lips. _Now_.

Her skin parted easily, like velvet curtains slipping aside at his touch, and her blood welled up hot and thick. He held himself back for a moment to admire the way it streamed down her neck, pooled in the dip of her collarbone, then bent again to lap at it leisurely –

– and sat back in horror. _No,_ was his first thought. _No, not her –_ _it can't be._

The teachings echoed in his memory as he stared at her, hand raised to his mouth in shock, her blood on his lips and his fingers and already pulsing within him. _The blood always knows_, his uncle's voice said solemnly. _The bond is inescapable once a vampire has tasted his soulmate._

_No_, he thought again, but the taste lingered, heavy and evocative as her thoughts now brushing against his – with an odd tang that made his stomach turn. _She's ill_, he realized through the thunder of his own heartbeat, and forced himself to stand, to turn away and _escape_ into the night even as her presence followed.

***

Yue woke slowly, blinking at the light that filtered into her tent. _He's gone_, she realized, and told herself that she should be glad, that she should hope never to see him again.

_You're the guardian of the People_, she reminded herself. _So what if he made you feel special. He's a _demon_._

***

The winter village was empty when the stranger returned the next time, but he'd expected this and followed the faint tracks through scrubby forests and into the rolling plains. He found them camped along the wide river delta, the women and children and old men fishing and gathering while the young men and warriors chased caribou through the grass.

Those grasses flavored the breezes, fresh and wild in contrast to the stifling air of _home_, but the stranger tried to push such thoughts aside as he approached. _Does she feel it_? he wondered again. _Does she know_? But humans were blind, their existence as oblivious and self-serving and fleeting as the insects that skated across the river shallows.

He shifted the pack on his back as he approached; he knew that this was the time of plenty, of rich harvest and bounty as the tribe roamed beyond their poisoned winter grounds, and he rehearsed his explanations as the first children caught sight of him and served to announce him in their eagerness.

She stood in the river shallows as he approached, skirt rucked up to her knees and laughing with the other women, and the sight – the smell, the _feel_ of her, brushing against his senses – almost made him stagger as longing washed over him, the bond pulling at his mind.

He forced his face to be impassive as she turned, following the silent gestures of the other tribeswomen. Her smile slipped into a carefully neutral mask and its absence hit him almost as a physical blow, even as the bond rippled. She waded out of the water hastily, releasing her skirt to swirl around her ankles, and he tried not to stare, to think of the shapely legs above them. He shifted his pack again and the motion jostled his arm; the pain gave him something to hold on to as he met her eyes.

Her brow quirked, humor in her expression for an instant, but she schooled her features and waited.

"A few moments of your time, Healer," he finally said, and followed her to her tent.

***

The burns healed quickly under her water and her hands and Yue released the demon's arm as soon as she properly could. _Why are you so jumpy_? she chided herself, even as she smoothed her palms against her skirt as if to erase the feel of his skin. _It's just a burn, it's just an arm, he's just a patient_, but his eyes had haunted her since she'd awoken weeks before.

"I've brought other gifts this time," the demon said suddenly and Yue tried not to startle at the words. He didn't look at her as he rummaged through his pack, pulled fabric and tools from it as she watched.

"Why are you here?" she blurted, and he looked up. His sunset eyes were vivid even in the tent's gloom and his aura burned around him so strongly that she could almost _feel_ him through the air.

He frowned. "I – "

Yue waved her hand to cut him off. "Suffered an accident, I know." His face held irritation, but in her dreams she saw only his eyes, felt only his skin and his fingertips until she woke every morning and tried to bury his memory.

***

Summer deepened as the hunters brought in meat and they feasted in the long warm evenings. The women dried and smoked and packed the surplus away, proof against another long winter on their impoverished land, and Yue allowed herself to hope that they might make it through another hungry season.

_I wish we could just leave_, she thought again. _It's just land and it's barely what was once ours_ – but she pushed the notion aside: the winter grounds were sacred, home to the tribe's ancestors and their very spirits. She refused, though, to think of the government, the edicts and notices and _agents_ that thought _their_ power held the tribe there.

***

The stranger came again and Yue realized that it was the new moon: he came during the new moon of every month, when her senses were weakest. She wondered at that even as he stood before her, clutching his side, his hand sticky with blood even as he almost smiled at her, the expression so subtle she would have missed it if she hadn't been watching him so closely. She tried not to smile in return, tried to remind herself that he was here to be _healed_, but part of her jumped in excitement as she swallowed her suspicion and ushered him to her tent.

Yue helped him remove his shirt, pulling the shredded material away from the gashes on his side; he hissed as she ran her fingers along the deep wounds and she tried not to shiver at the puff of breath on her skin. She forced herself to focus on the water's glow, on the flow of blood beneath the skin, on coaxing the torn flesh to smooth back into itself. The gouges were deep, the skin sliced cleanly away to reveal raw flesh beneath – a sharp contrast to the ragged gaping scrapes she'd seen in other bear attacks. The stranger's hands were draped across his lap, the long fingers relaxed but they could easily match the spread of the gashes.

Yue looked up then and the stranger looked away too quickly and anger surged through her. "You did this to yourself."

He didn't deny it, just met her eyes again and the weight of his gaze made shiver. She held on to her anger against the surge of emotion.

"_Why_? Why are you even _here_?" He made no reply, only watched her, eyes blazing like the dying sunset. "Is this some sort of a _diversion_? Are you just trying to _distract_ me while your kind hunts us again? I'll not have it, I –"

She stopped as he grabbed her wrist, his fingers burning against her skin and she shivered again before she could stop herself. "Don't you feel it, Yue?" His voice was low, husky, and this time she knew he saw the shiver ripple down her spine, pool in her stomach and lower.

She steeled herself, pushed the feeling away. "All I feel is _anger_ – you've been _using_ me and I'll be _damned_ if I allow your kind to prey on us again!" He frowned and opened his mouth and she pulled her wrist away. "_Leave_."

"But –" he started, gesturing at the wounds still raw and oozing on his side, but she cut him off.

"Those will heal just fine on their own. Get out of my tent." She forced herself to look away but instead found herself drowning in his stare, in the odd blend of anger, arrogance, and desperation written in his features, the way she could still feel his fingers on her wrist and how his light skin seemed almost to glisten in the dim light as he leaned towards her, opened his mouth to speak or to –

Shouts sounded outside her tent, the warriors returning from their hunt and Yue shut her eyes to block him out.

"_Go_."

He went.

***

The stranger glided into Yue's tent that night, moving silently through shadows, the past month's longing too much to ignore. _She's the one_, he thought again – he'd tried to put her aside, tried not to think of _her_ and instead only his mission, his directive to collect the Moon Spirit and return her to the Fire Nation for the ceremony – but she was the _one_, his _soul-mate_, and he couldn't escape the memory of her eyes and the way her mind slid against the edges of his.

She lay sprawled on her furs, a messy sleeper; he almost smiled at the sight before he felt her heartbeat in the air, the blood moving beneath her smooth soft skin and he closed his eyes against the longing that rose in him.

When it finally ebbed, forced into the background as he controlled the need, the _craving_, he chanced reaching out to her, touching her lips and trailing his fingers along her cheek and down her neck. She stirred in her sleep, made a small noise and he paused, but she settled again and he bent to drink.

The tang of illness was fainter than in the spring, but there in the sharp taste of blood and the sharper _feel_ of _her_ blood, unlike any he had ever tasted; he felt the ache of it echoed as if in his own blood, the foreign fatigue of human illness and something _more_, the whisper of her dreams soft against his mind.

_The bond is strong already_, he thought, and sat back, watching her, listening to her breaths and her heartbeats and feeling the edges of her restless dreams. _You have to do this_, he told himself, remembering his directive again, what had been promised and threatened. _She's only a human, spirit-touched or no_.

He felt the sun's path nearing the horizon, the first faint blush of dawn moving into the sky, before he finally moved. His fingernails sharpened to claws as he leaned forward, slid his hand under her neck to cradle her head and draw her towards him; he broke the skin at the base of his throat with his other hand and pulled her mouth to the blood that welled up.

The bond between them surged and he _burned_ with it, with the smell of her blood mingled with his and the feel of her skin under his fingers and he knew that he had never wanted _anyone_ like he wanted _her_. Her emotions sighed and tickled, deepening as his blood coursed through her, enticing him like no simple physical attraction ever had. He closed his eyes and clenched his teeth until he felt his blood respond within her, beginning to repair the damage in her tissues; he lay her back on her furs and forced himself to leave before he drank her dry right there.

_It's because I have to subdue her_, he told himself as he moved swiftly away from the camp, the sky changing from black to grey to the palest blue. _The change takes time, and trust, and blood, and I can't rush it if I'm to bring her back for the ceremony._

He told himself this over and over again as the sun rose and traveled across the sky, and tried to ignore how he could still _feel_ her despite the distance.

***

The nights turned cold even as the days remained warm and the tribe neared their winter grounds, moving through the circle of the broad wilderness. Yue frowned as she looked across the plains towards the distant seas; the land should be rich and fruitful at summer's end, but it felt wrong this year – weak, sickly, like the illness she felt growing in her own body.

She sighed and turned back to the camp where women cut meat into strips to be smoked and stored, proof against winter starvation. She whispered a silent blessing that these stores would last, and moved back into the cluster of tents. The Protector and his warriors sat in human form around the central fire, cleaning and sharpening the spears they sometimes used; he looked up as he approached, his eyes questioning and she tried to smile as she made her way to her tent.

The stranger returned the next day and Yue steeled herself at the commotion that greeted him, even as something inside her twisted pleasantly and painfully at the thought of seeing him again. He looked up as she approached, standing taller than the warriors who circled him, and she read unfamiliar softness in his expression, a tilt to his eyes and mouth. _He's sorry_, she thought tiredly, and that rather than the gifts he brought guided her decision to see him.

She closed the tent flap behind them and sat carefully on her furs, considering him through the exhaustion and weakness closing in around her. The stranger settled stiffly to the ground in front of her, eyes wary but hopeful, and they watched each other for a long time in the tent's dim light. _I'm too weak to fight right now_, she thought, and ignored the warmth that spread through her at his familiar presence.

"Why are you here?" she finally asked, and the stranger frowned, ripples of emotion playing across his face.

"I –" he started, but Yue cut him off.

"No. No injuries, no accidents – you don't need my _healing_ and you never have." She held his eyes for a long moment, broke the gaze before she lost herself in it, let out a long breath. "_Why_ are you _here_? What do you _want_?"

He didn't answer as she knew he wouldn't, and finally she sighed.

The stranger shifted. "I'll go," he said quietly, his voice raw, and Yue closed her eyes until long after he'd left.

***

He knew from her smell, from the aura of exhaustion that hovered around her, that she wasn't well; the taint in her blood and something _new_, something ominous had filled the tent as she stared listlessly at the wall. He tried to push down the worry, tried again to think of his _mission_, but he forgot everything but her as he watched her that night.

Her face had grown gaunt in the month since she'd sent him away, her smooth features drawing away from sharp angles. He stroked her hair gently, threading his claws through the strands and caressing her cheek. _What are you doing?_ he asked himself yet again, and gathered her into him to make her drink, make her take his blood, try to heal her in the manner of his kind even as he told himself he did it to start the change. His own blood smelled sharp in the tent's close air, smoothing over the tang in hers, and he checked his desire for her until she lay back among the furs.

He smoothed her hair back again, bent his head and felt his fangs slip past his lips when her eyes opened. She stared at him for a moment, surprise – and pleasure? – playing across her face and he leaned closer. Her eyes widened, then narrowed in anger and she swung too quickly for him to dodge the blow.

"What are you _doing_?" she shrieked as he scrambled backwards, his jaw stinging. She fumbled beside the bed but he managed to duck the boot she flung at his head. "Why are you in my _tent_?" The other boot caught him in the chest, but he barely felt it against the rage in the air she projected, the hurt and _betrayal_ that flooded his mind through the fog of interrupted sleep.

He tried to ignore it, tried to shush her but she was too enraged, too _confused_, and she batted his arm aside as he reached for her. "I told you to _go_!"

Outside, a commotion started, the warriors yelping and growling, then a howl cut through the noise as the scent of her spirit-touched blood reached them.

"_Yue!_" the lead wolf shouted, and the stranger cursed, melted into the shadows at the far end of the tent. The tent flap opened, revealing an angular face, the skin seeming to ripple as he struggled to stay in human form. "Yue, what's _wrong_? I smelled blood –"

The stranger watched her face contort, anger and concern and annoyance warring across her features.

"I – I'm fine," she finally said, and the stranger relaxed. "I… it was just a dream. And… I bit my tongue." She smiled faintly. "Thank you for checking on me. I'm fine, though. You may go."

The wolf frowned. "But –"

"Please," she said softly, formally, her eyes on the floor in front of her. "My dream has disturbed me. I wish to be left alone."

The stranger felt the wolf's frustration in the air, faint beside Yue's conflicted thoughts tumbling against his own mind. The stranger kept his breathing slow, tried to project calm; finally the wolf nodded and left and the tent fell silent again.

"I know you're there." Her voice was soft, strained – _exhausted_, and he slipped from the shadows to settle a short distance away.

"I know," he said carefully, and she didn't flinch. Her eyes were dark gray against richly shadowed black, drawing him in as much as the blood coursing beneath her skin.

"Why are you here?" The weariness in her tone pulled at him, stretched his resolve so thin he didn't know if it broke or just changed shape.

"Maybe… I just wanted to see you."

His words hung in the air for a moment as he held his breath, trying to predict how she would react, but she surprised him with a soft laugh.

"Right. _You_, a demon, sneak into my tent in the dead of night because you wanted to _see_ me. Tell me another."

He frowned. "I'm not a _demon_."

She sighed, then, surprising him again. "Demon, wraith, nightmare, shadow-stalker… whatever." Her voice was low, exhaustion creeping back into it. "Why are you _here_?"

He surprised himself by answering. "I was sent. To find you." The words seemed to lay in the air between them, heavy with truth.

"By who?" she said after a long time.

"It doesn't matter. I was sent, but now…" he hated the weakness in his own voice. "Now I'm just _here_."

"Well, you found me." He could read no emotion from that quiet statement, but the furs rustled around her, a restless question in the motion as his own blood roared beneath her skin.

"I can't escape you," he whispered. It was true, he realized; every dream, every thought, every taste of blood reminded him of her. Not of his mission – _her_, this human woman who held the other half of his soul. He forced the terror at that thought down, forced his voice to be steady, to sow the seeds that would convince her to follow him. "I don't know what it is, but I can't escape you, even if I try."

She didn't respond but he felt the roil of emotions from her at his words; he closed his eyes against the strength of them, against the desire to move closer, breathe her in and drink from her and make her _his_. He could feel how fragile the moment was, how close she –

"Go" she whispered.

* * *

**TBC.**

AN: Everyone please give a round of applause and a loving shout-out to sharkflip for writing us this chapter!

This chapter posted Friday, March 12th, 2010.

PS: Expect ze pr0nz next Friday when I upload Ch.32. (Thank you so very much, sharkflip!)


	32. Chapter 32

**AN: Mature content ahead! (Thank you, Sharkflip!) **

* * *

**Chapter 32**

The cold came too soon, the ground freezing and the rivers icing over as the first snows showed what was to come. The tribe settled into its winter ground, the land dead even under that light blanket, and the winter songs and dances were as much plea as thanks as the days shortened.

The stranger came back again, as she knew he would, but Yue refused to see him, looking away as he sought her gaze.

He surprised her by begging audience from her father, not buying her time but following the old ways as a supplicant. Yue bristled but could not refuse the formal request, and swallowed her intrigue that he _knew_ the old ways.

The silence in her tent was awkward; she sat rigidly beside her offering box as the stranger knelt before her, head bowed as was proper. Anger replaced the intrigue as he waited, rage that he had forced her into accepting him, and she turned it back on him. "What's your name?" she demanded, knowing that he couldn't refuse to answer, not if he wanted to keep this truce.

The stranger sighed, almost a hiss before he spoke. "Zuko. Son of Ozai and Ursa. Grandson of Azulon and Ilah." He looked up then to meet her eyes. "Crown Prince, and heir to the Fire Nation Throne."

The honesty and the weight of the title startled her; the words were familiar and Yue forced herself to smirk. "Ah, a _chief_'s son. I should have guessed." She watched anger spread across his face and knew he struggled to remain silent, as was proper when in audience with a Speaker. _Zuko_, she thought, testing the harsh sounds, and he seemed to flinch. She hardened her expression. "Why are you here?"

He shrugged, reluctant and defiant. "To see you."

"Well," she spread her arms wide. "Here I am. Is that all?"

He sighed again. "Yue, I –"

"Don't."

She saw the confusion in his eyes, felt it in the air between them as she shook her head. "Don't think to address me like you _know_ me. You _don't_."

He stiffened, anger in his posture now. "_Fine_. Lady Yue, Beloved of the Moon, Speaker for the People." He withdrew something from his pack, held it out to her; she didn't move and instead watched him warily. "I bring you this, to show myself worthy of your regard."

She held his eyes for a long moment before reaching to take the package. "I thank you for this offering," she said automatically, then set it aside on her altar.

He shifted uneasily, and she folded her hands to wait him out.

He didn't disappoint. He – _Zuko_ – opened his mouth to speak and she glared at him; he flushed and dropped his eyes. "Aren't you going to open it?"

"No."

She could feel his disappointment, and almost smiled at it – how like a child he was, despite the weight of agelessness that followed him.

He finally sighed, folded his hands in supplication, looked up to meet her eyes. She held herself steady, willing herself not to get lost in that sunset regard. "It would please me to know if my gift pleases you."

She saw the sincerity there, rare and precious from a _demon_, and something within her crumbled. She looked away, towards the package laying among shells and feathers and tiny statues. "Fine." She picked it up, loosened the twine that held it shut. The wrappings fell away and she raised her brow at the shimmer of blue fabric within. She forgot herself for a moment then, shaking it out of careful folds: a scarf, patterned with colors ranging from those of a frozen pond to the deepest indigo of the night sky. Yue touched it carefully, wondering at the intricate patterns, the smoothness of the fabric.

"You like it then?" He broke her reverie and she caught herself, forced her Speaker's face back into position.

"It will do," she answered and bundled it back into the wrapping, forced herself to lock away its beauty, to place it among the other gifts of her station. She forced herself to relish the disappointment in his eyes; she felt it somehow in her heart, almost as if the emotion were her own. She shrugged it aside and forced her voice to be formal, cold, indifferent. "You may go."

Anger flashed across his face, mingled with the disappointment; frustration and an odd desperation as well, and he stood hastily, almost hitting his head on the tent's support beams. "Thank you for your audience, _Lady Yue_," he says, the words courteous and correct but his tone conveying that anger, that frustration.

She sat for a long time in the gloom of her tent after he left, trying not to think of his sincerity and his gift. _Zuko_, she thought, and shivered.

***

Yue woke up the next morning feeling lighter, better, the fatigue of illness lifted despite the lingering annoyance. She stretched slowly, flexed her hands, opened her eyes and saw the scarf entwined in her fingers. Her annoyance returned at his arrogance: he visited her _again_ in the night, for all his formal words and gestures, but the fabric was soft in her fingers.

She stroked it against her cheek despite herself, lifted it to study it in the morning light. The fabric was beautiful, like nothing she had ever seen or felt, the patterns complex and variegated with a gentle sheen that reminded her of moonlight on still water. It couldn't hurt to keep it.

_This gives you no hold over me, demon, _she thought, and then tried not to think of him at all.

***

_Hear me_, Yue prayed as winter deepened and the daylight vanished and she remembered the ruined food cache, decimated by rot and foxes alike. _Spirits, I don't know what we have done to displease you, but please, spare us further punishment and show what we might to do earn your favor again. Please hear me and know that the Water Tribe needs your blessing to continue._

She knelt on her prayer mat, burned incense and chanted and prayed throughout the long dark night, but when the pearl gray of day stole around the horizon, she knew not if they had heard – or if they had heard, if they chose to answer.

She finally rose reluctantly, wincing at the stiffness in her limbs as she lay out on her bed, pulling the furs around her and curling into herself. Exhaustion dragged at her, the illness and the dreams weighing her down.

_Why can't I stop thinking about you?_ she wondered again. _What hold have you taken of me?_

She tried to think of him as _demon_, as the terror that hunted her village in the elders' stories, but could think only of sunset eyes and a reluctant name.

"_Zuko_," she whispered before slipping into restless sleep.

***

The separation felt as a physical pain, clawing at his innards and weighing his steps, pulsing and fluttering against his mind as if she, too, were troubled, haunted by his memory. Zuko tried to ignore the sensations as he trudged through dense forest, careful to lay this false trail before taking to the trees. His sister's reavers were relentless but stupid, easily misled if given the time to prepare.

_Time is what I don't have_, he thought, feeling the hunger pulse within him. He had been running for too long, pursued too relentlessly to feed and he felt the blood-lust at the edges of his mind, waiting and growing with every day. He stopped walking, closed his eyes and forced it down, then forced himself to keep walking, keep leading them away.

Away from _her_.

_It's for the mission_, he told himself. _I need her to gain my birthright, my place in the clan. The throne is only gained through sacrifice. If Azula succeeds and she falls, I'll never gain what is mine_. He repeated the words, the teachings, like a mantra; they helped him place one foot in front of the other, even as they didn't drown out the blue, blue eyes that haunted his memory, his dreams, teasing and taunting him as he had once used dreams to tease and taunt other prey.

_Yue_, he thought, and forced himself to continue forward.

***

A second month dragged by and Yue tried to be glad, tried to be grateful that he hadn't returned, that he'd finally obeyed and _left_. His absence nagged at her, though, like the illness, like the hunger that already spread through the tribe as they tried to stretch their remaining food into winter's depth. The Protector and his kind returned too often with empty mouths and empty hands, the hunts unsuccessful as the land, too, hungered.

The tribe looked hopeful as the solstice approached, even as Yue dreaded it; she hated this Speaker's duty, the burdens it placed on her as a woman and as a person, separate from her title. She spent the dark days before it in prayer and meditation, _hoping_ – but for _what_, she couldn't admit.

The night finally came and with it the dance, the elders sitting behind the fire, the women opposite it, the eligible men standing in a loose circle around it – around _her_, as Yue began the ancient steps to the women's chants.

It was supposed to be her choice, the _moon spirit_'s choice of a lover to please her on this longest night, when she needed the warmth of a man and in turn rewarded the tribe with prosperity in the new year. It was supposed to be _Yue_'s choice, as the moon spirit's earthly voice, but all in the tribe knew her choice to be the Protector, the act sealing the bond between their peoples.

He looked on from his place in the center of his warriors, his face betraying eagerness and desire even as he made no motion and Yue continued the sacred dance. He was a decent lover, passionate and reverent, but had always been more engaged with her body, with the status it granted him to be chosen for this ritual. Yue tried to think of her tribe and her duty to them, rather than of her own desires – rather than of sunset eyes and long fingers and dreams that plagued her in the night.

Few remained in the circle, the warriors retreating as she turned her back or shook her head and the chants grew louder, more intense as quiet dread grew in her at the Protector's proud smirk, at his heated gaze on her form. The last warrior stepped down and he tilted his head to step forward when a ripple of murmurs joined the chants.

Yue turned, unsurprised as the stranger – the demon, the shadow-stalker, _Zuko_ – stepped into the circle, firelight dancing across his features, revealing the same weariness she felt in her bones. She ignored the Protector's rage, his outstretched hand as he moved to stop her even as the chants faded into shocked silence and she extended her own hand to place it on Zuko's chest. He stared at her, surprise and understanding and desire pushing the weariness aside for a moment as his heart beat strongly beneath her palm, then the Protector growled.

"Yue," he started, long teeth flashing in the firelight, but she held up her other hand.

"It is not your choice," she said quietly and felt Zuko's pulse leap under her fingers before she moved her hand to take his wrist. The Protector shook with rage but remained silent as Yue led the demon from the circle and stepped into the shadows beyond.

Her tent was dark and quiet in comparison and felt smaller than it had ever been; her eyes adjusted slowly as she took her time fastening the tent flap and finally she turned to face him. They watched each other in the darkness, his harsh breathing the only sound until she finally spoke.

"Why are you here?" she whispered, but knew he had no answer, so she took a step forward.

He stayed silent, eyes glinting even in the dark as she felt his sincerity beside his torment and she took another step towards him. "I can't stop thinking about you. All my dreams, all my thoughts… are you doing this?"

Still he made no motion, only stared at her as she closed the distance between them until their faces were only a handspan apart; emotion warred in his eyes, clear now that he was so close, and Yue saw for the first time his confusion, his hesitance, his _fear_, all mixed with too-familiar desire and frustration. Yue lay her hand on his chest again and felt him shaking, felt his fists clench as she stepped into him, turned her head to hear his heart beat under her ear for a moment before something in him seemed to break. He surged forward, his arms crushing her to him as she felt his lips on her neck and her shoulders, kissing her skin with a hunger that pulsed off of him and shivered through her.

She raised her head and he seized her face, pulling her mouth to his as she ran her hands up his chest to feel his own blood pulsing through his neck. The kiss was fierce, strong and overwhelming as they both took, both gave of themselves. Yue shivered as he licked at her mouth, felt his fangs slide across her lips without breaking the skin; she pushed up against him in return, arching her back and tilting her head as he shuddered under her hands.

"_Yue_," he breathed into her neck, his teeth sliding along the skin so achingly gentle that she couldn't feel afraid, just closed her eyes and savored the touch.

She slid her arms under his jacket in response, feeling hard muscle under his shirt and he let go of her shoulders for just an instant to help her shrug it off. The jacket fell to the floor and his hands were already on her waist, sliding under her tunic, fingers warm against her skin and she gasped at the sensation, shivered in his arms as their lips met for another kiss before he pulled the tunic over her head.

She fumbled with his shirt buttons as he slid his hands down her back, tracing the contours as they kissed again, tongues meeting and breath mingling and finally his shirt was loose, revealing moon-pale skin hot under her fingers as he shrugged it off and bent to kiss her again.

"Why did you choose me?" he whispered, his voice hoarse and his fingers busy and she gasped, bit into his shoulder as his breath washed over her skin. "It made your tribe angry – it made your pet wolf angry – _why_?" His teeth dragged across her skin again, but again she felt no pain, no tearing, no piercing – only his tongue and his lips as she whimpered and fumbled with his belt. "_Answer me_," he hissed, but she heard the plea in the command.

"I don't know," she whispered, tipping her head back for better access even as his belt came undone and she pushed his pants down along narrow hips, ran her hands along his flanks and the smooth muscle there. He shuddered as she pressed up against him, rocking into him for an instant as a tiny sound escaped with his breath. "I just know… there's _something_, and maybe…" but she didn't know how to finish the statement and then his hands were sliding along her own hips, her skirt falling around her ankles and she kicked it aside and struggled briefly to slip out of her boots.

"I know," he whispered, pulling her closer, the embrace almost tender before his hands glided over her shoulders again; she let him guide her backwards and they tumbled back onto her sleeping furs, hands and lips busy. He moved over her then, laying her back against the furs, but she stopped him with a hand on his chest.

His expression held confusion, a touch of hurt that made him look suddenly young; she touched his

his lips and he closed his eyes for an instant, bit her fingertips gently, his teeth flashing white for an instant as again they drew no blood. She dropped her hand to rest on his thigh.

"Tonight is not for you..." she whispered and leaned forward, pressing gently on his chest. He moved back, watching her, and she smiled. "Tonight is a night of reverence, of celebration for the moon spirit." She followed him as he braced himself back on his hands and she put her hands behind his, leaned forward and watched expressions play across his face. "When we give her thanks and honor her with this gift, to ensure prosperity for the coming year."

Their chests touched now as she pressed him back into the furs and he reached up to place his hands up on her hips, stroke his thumbs against the thin skin there. She shivered at the touch, leaned forward to kiss him deeply. "It is considered the greatest honor to be chosen to please the moon spirit," she whispered, and he gasped as she straddled him, rocked back to sit astride his hips; he shuddered as she reached back to stroke him but he was ready and they gasped together as he slipped inside.

"_Oh_," she sighed, feeling herself stretch pleasantly as she took him in; she arched her back and lay one hand on his ribs to steady herself as she slid along his length and he writhed beneath her, his breath hissing as he clenched his teeth. He tried to pull her closer, faster, but she set the pace, long and slow and deep as she moved over him, hair tumbling loose around her shoulders and hips as he dragged his fingers across her skin.

She soon shuddered and cried out, clenching down on him and he grit his teeth and pushed up into her, but she forced him down again, keeping the pace slow as his fingers clutched at her thighs and he tipped his head back and bit his lip. She smiled at the sight then gasped as he rolled his hips and she slid forward, panting and moving ever so faintly faster.

She cried out again soon and leaned forward and he could feel her, taste her in the air even as the distance between them still felt so great. He felt her shudder, delicate muscles rippling around him and he bucked against her and _whined_, hating the sound but needing her so desperately, the bond pulsing so strong it felt almost painful. She finally let go and he surged up into her, fast and hard and fingers gripping her hips until they cried out together, drawing out the sensation into a long, aching climax.

She stayed astride him as the aftershocks faded, breathing heavily and brow sweaty. He just watched her, watched how she ran her hands through her hair, pulled it back only to have it fall forward again. He traced the curve of her hip with one hand, held her close against him with the other, and finally she looked down at him. Her smile was soft, knowing, and he felt himself flush at that regard.

"Did that please the moon spirit?" he heard himself ask, surprised at how low his voice sounded, cracked and almost broken, and she laughed. She leaned forward and he slipped out of her; her hair tumbled around her shoulders again and he reached up to smooth it away from her face. She closed her eyes as he stroked her cheek, then she moved her legs, draping them over his and laying out atop him. Her hair fanned out over his shoulder and he reached one arm up to pull her closer. She settled her head against his chest and her hand atop his other arm and sighed deeply, the sound of a contented woman.

"The moon spirit is pleased," she said with quiet humor, and Zuko smiled.

***

He woke early the next morning with her still in his arms and part of him – the part of him like _humanity_, feelings and emotions and a conscience – felt unbelievably satisfied, content to stay there, watching her sleep and tracing patterns on her bare skin for the eternity that was his birthright.

Another part still _hungered_ for her, though; Zuko knew it hadn't been enough, he wanted so much _more_ and a distant part of him that he tried so hard to ignore whispered to take her, mesmerize her and turn her and bring her back to make his destiny. Yet another part of him could feel the illness in her, growing and spreading and it pulled at him like an old wound.

He gathered her into him and made her drink from him; she murmured as he settled her back into the furs, sighed as he tipped her head back and traced the line of her carotid with his tongue and finally bit gently into her. She murmured again, the sound surprised and pleased though she didn't wake up and he closed his eyes to concentrate on making her feel good as he lapped the blood from her skin.

He drank his fill despite the tang of illness and the tiny punctures soon sealed over, healing quickly as his own blood surged within her. He forced himself to draw the furs around her, to stand and dress and leave the tent before she woke; Azula's reavers would only follow a false trail for so long and he had risked so much by coming, but he couldn't regret seeing her – not this time.

***

Yue woke alone, tucked carefully into her furs and feeling warm, satisfied and wonderfully _relaxed_. She stretched luxuriously, smiled – then realized that he was gone.

_You should be glad_, she told herself. _You've had your night together, your questions answered, and you should be relieved he's gone._

The words were empty solace, though, and she buried her tears in her pillow.

* * *

**TBC.**

**AN: Everyone please give a round of applause and a loving shout-out to sharkflip for writing us this wonderful chapter!  
**

**This chapter posted Friday, March 19th, 2010.**


	33. Chapter 33

**Chapter 33**

Snow held the land prisoner, the people barely hanging on as hunger deepened with winter.

Yue watched another family leave the sacred land for the towns, abandoning their people and their history for a promise of survival and work in the processing plants that sprawled along the coasts. She felt tears course down her cheeks as they vanished into the dusk, but could not begrudge them their choice. _The land is dying_, she thought. _And my time grows short._

He – _Zuko_, for she could no longer think of him simply as a demon, not after that night – hadn't returned with the new moon and she tried not to feel disappointment. The dreams continued, intensified, images of blood and passion and his eyes drawing her in consuming her until she imagined she could feel him, roaming the darkness and _waiting_ – for what, she didn't know.

She picked at her meal that evening, the food somehow unsatisfying despite the ache of hunger, and excused herself early. He tent was dark, silent as she lit precious incense and tried instead to immerse herself in prayer for her people, but his eyes haunted her even then.

***

Zuko dragged himself through the snow, concentrating on putting one foot in front of the other, on clutching his arm across his injured side to avoid leaving a blood trail. He'd killed the last of Azula's reavers, but there would be more and he only hoped he could recover before she sent the next pack.

_Yue_, he thought desperately, feeling her close and distant all at once, the bond's ache growing with every day that passed between them, worse than the ache of hunger. The memory of her eyes haunted him, the way she had sighed into his mouth and the way she tasted as he took of her; the visions disturbed his days and nights alike.

He spent that night – or perhaps day; time blurred together in the grey northern winter – under a rock overhang beside a lake that stretched into snowy distance. He stripped off his shirt and stepped carefully out onto the frozen surface, padded away from shore and finally stooped to melt ice into clear, cold water. The wound stung as he irrigated it, the water splashing pink onto the ice with the reavers' filth, but he could feel their poison seeping into his blood, already burning through his veins.

He finished washing, shivering despite the fire than simmered within him as he stepped back, raised his arms and melted the blood-stained ice into open water, threw his shirt in after it and watched it sink into black depths. Reavers were drawn to blood like the sharks that swam the seas, but even their senses would be hard pressed to trace his blood scent from a spring-thawed lake.

He risked no fire that night and huddled into himself, pulling his coat tightly around him and trying to think of _her_ through the cold and pain, through the bloodlust that crept up again as he felt himself begin to starve.

_Yue_, he thought again, and slipped into uneasy dreams of warm blue eyes and smooth brown skin and blood spilled across fresh snow.

***

The freezing air seemed heavy that evening despite the perfect cloudless sky. The full moon hovered low on the horizon, green and red lights dancing before it as Yue watched from the edge of the village. _Hear me_, she prayed. _Our food is almost gone, the land is dying, and we grow weaker with every passing dusk._ _You made the Water Tribe strong, but – _

She broke off mid-prayer as a figure stumbled from the barren woods. _Zuko!_ she knew even before he lifted his head, and she dropped her arms and hiked up her skirt to run to him. He finally looked up as she approached and she _felt_ something ripple between them, but his eyes were empty and fear replaced her sudden joy.

He snarled, or whimpered – she couldn't tell which – and leapt at her, shoving her into the ground beneath him, pushing her into the snow almost too fast for her to feel afraid – but then his teeth sank into her neck and she almost screamed before he clapped his hand over her mouth. She felt him bite into her again as she lay helpless, felt clawed fingers dig into her cheek – the terrors from her Gran's whispered stories and Yue felt so _stupid_ for trusting him, for thinking he might different.

She struggled against him but he pinned her wrists above her head and continued to drink, his tongue and lips hot against her neck and his breath ragged on her skin, too fast and too sharp, strained as it hadn't been when she had ridden him to the heights of passion. She smelled blood in the air – _his as well as mine_, she realized, and tried not to think how she knew that. _He's injured_, she thought instead, feeling the confusion from him, the raw need that was nothing like their night together. _This, too, is healing_, she told herself, and forced her body to relax.

Soon he released her hands and pulled her parka open, bit into her shoulder as his breathing evened and she shivered because it almost felt _good_. Part of her screamed at her to _run_ and part of her enjoyed the sensation, his weight over her and how close they pressed together and she tried to swallow the fear. She slipped her hands into his hair and he almost _purred_, deep in his throat, and started to bite into her again when he shook his head.

Awareness surged from him then, replacing the delirium, and he looked up at her. His eyes held surprise, then horror, the irises again wide and sunset-gold. "Oh spirits, _Yue_," he whispered.

He reached up to touch her neck with shaking fingers, claws now barely scraping her skin, and suddenly she didn't know what to say except "_Shhhh_." She touched his face with her own hand and he closed his eyes and clutched at it. "We'll go back to my tent," she whispered. "I can finish healing you there."

He didn't respond but released her hand as she struggled to her feet in the snow, fought dizziness as she pulled her parka closer around her. He blinked up at her through the moonlight and she was struck suddenly by how beautiful he was.

"Come on," she said, reaching her hand out to him again. "I don't know if you can freeze to death, but I can."

Her tent was almost bright with the full moon and the wounds on his side were shallow, less serious than those self-inflicted in the summer, but her healing water seemed to burn. "There's something…" She grit her teeth and _pulled_ and he gasped.

"My blood – it's in –"

"_There_." The tainted water seemed dark, sinister somehow as she bent it away into a jug. She ran her hands over his skin, smooth and flawless where it had been raw and mangled. Yue sat back on her heels and watched him, but he stared at the ground between his feet as the moments slipped by.

"How can you touch me?" he finally whispered. "I –"

She cut him off. "You needed me."

He said no more but allowed her to lead him to her bed. She pulled the furs around them both and curled against him and listened to his breathing slow and his heart beat beneath her ear. At length, she slept.

***

Zuko woke slowly the next morning, struggling up out of rare deep sleep. Yue lay in the circle of his arms and he pulled her closer, savoring her feel and her scent before he saw the teeth marks on her neck, her shoulder, deep and ragged from his need. The sight – his lack of control, the way they hadn't healed, unlike his usual careful bites – sickened him and he cut the skin on his throat and made her drink deeply of his own life blood. The punctures healed as he watched and eventually she stirred.

She blinked up at him, then smiled softly and he bent his head to kiss her hair.

"How are you feeling?" she whispered. He leaned back and considered how to answer for a long moment, stroking her shoulder idly.

"Better," he finally answered. "Yue," he started, but she silenced him with a finger to his lips.

"You needed me," she repeated, and her conviction soothed the lingering doubts. She smiled at him again, reading the expressions on his face, and he kissed the finger that still lay across his lips. Her smile deepened as he rolled her atop him and soon they moved into each other, rocking softly together.

When they had both shuddered their climax against the other, they lay together quietly, Yue lightly stroking his chest while he held her close.

"Are you leaving soon?" she whispered into warm silence and Zuko tightened his arms around her.

"Not yet."

***

He stayed for more than a week this time, sharing her bed and her life and earning the tribe's grudging respect when he returned from the nearby town with a sledge of meat and dry goods, food to see them through weeks of the hungry season in thanks for his care. Yue went with him on the long walk, earning the Protector's ire once more.

"He doesn't belong here," he hissed, glaring as Zuko sat in the Chief's tent, talking with her father and other elders who watched him warily but conversed easily enough.

"It is not your choice," Yue replied simply, and turned away.

Their nights were divided between passion and tenderness, exploring and learning each other. Zuko could feel the illness retreating as he shared his blood with her every morning in dawn's grey and he could feel how her body attuned itself to him as he took of her before she woke. He learned more of her tribe, too – her people and her history, her love of their land and her fear for their future. He didn't know how to answer her questions, though. The Fire Nation, his clan and his lineage, the sacred fires and high court and ancient thirsts – all seemed so very distant when she lay shuddering in his arms.

"How old are you?" she asked one night.

Zuko considered how to answer, staring at the skins stitched together overhead. "Young, for my kind," he finally replied.

"That's not an answer."

"I don't have any better one."

Yue huffed in annoyance and he pulled her closer, kissing her neck and her jaw and sliding his hands along her back. She allowed herself to be distracted from the question, but when they again lay quietly in her furs she asked again.

"How old are you, really?"

"Does it matter?"

She didn't answer for a long time and Zuko hoped she'd accepted his answer, but she finally sighed. "I'm dying," she said softly.

Her words hung in the air as shock coursed through him at the idea, the thought of their connection severed by death.

"I've always known," she continued. "The last Speaker made a prophesy as I was born. That I would save the village but live in darkness – bear a great burden but rise again to stand in the sun." She sighed again. "The elders interpreted that to mean that I would die, and I can feel that I will." She rolled over to face him and the calm sorrow in her eyes made his gut clench. "I'm ill, Zuko. I can feel it creeping through me and I know it to be true and only hope that the village will be saved." She sighed again. "It's never bothered me, but now…"

She didn't finish and Zuko tried to speak through the cold pressing down on him. "But now?" he asked. His voice sounded broken, but she smiled weakly.

"Nothing."

He knew it for a lie but let the silence blanket them both and eventually she slept. _You saved my life_, he thought as he held her close. _Maybe I can save yours._

***

The idea grew and when the new moon arrived and Zuko bid her farewell again, he knew what he had to do. _Father sent me to find you_, he thought as he moved silently over the snow. _To take you and bring you back in order to claim my birthright_. The flame roared in his memory but he refused to let it control him. _I'll do as he ordered, but you'll be no sacrifice._

He smiled to himself, remembering her passion, her strength and her will, as strong as any daughter of fire.

_You will make a fine queen to rule by my side._

***

The winter snows now seemed less a prison and more a blanket as the hunters ventured far to finally return with untainted meats and Zuko's gifts sustained them. Yue allowed herself to hope that the tribe would survive through the winter, that the moon spirit had indeed been pleased with her choices and turned her favor on them again.

He returned soon, a small eternity passing before he walked back into the camp, more food on the sledge he dragged. He smiled at her as she approached, the expression making his features beautiful, unearthly, and she ignored the Protector's protests again.

"Your women," Zuko asked one night. "And you – you all wear this." He touched the pendant where it lay against her collarbone, the only garment left to break the contours of her skin. His claws were out this night and they clicked gently against the stone. "What does it mean?"

"It's a betrothal necklace," she answered, reaching to touch it in the familiar, comforting gesture. "It's a tradition. When a man chooses a wife, or a woman's family chooses her husband, the man is to carve one to signify his promise to her. The woman then wears it for the same reason."

He traced the leather band with one gentle claw and she shivered as his touch moved to her neck, too. "And yet you are not betrothed." He quirked one eyebrow and leaned towards her. "Unless…?"

Yue blushed, touched the necklace again. "This is my mother's. And her mother's."

His hand worked into her hair, stroking gently and she sighed. "But not yours," he said softly, and she tensed.

"I am the Speaker for the People. I am not to wed."

She turned away from him but he followed, kissing the back of her neck as she shivered. "Then no one will protest when we do _this_."

She smiled despite herself, then gasped as his claws raked her flanks, too lightly to pierce the skin but hard enough to make her shiver. He moved atop her and she arched back against him and allowed him to again stroke her into passion. His hands remained gentle on her hips, belying his nature as they moved together, and he whimpered into her shoulder as she cried out. She heard him whisper something against her neck as they lay still joined, but the words were meaningless and she slipped into sleep.

***

He dozed beside her when she woke and she savored the opportunity to watch him. His features were sharp, narrow, unlike the Water Tribe's broad strength and wholly different from the Protector's angular grace. She traced the curve of his cheek bone, the strong lines of his brow and jaw, and he stirred and pulled her closer but didn't wake.

_I wish_… she thought, but didn't know what she wished for. _You have so much time_, she thought instead. _Would I have that time, if I became like you?_

But she was Speaker for the People, Beloved of the Moon, and she could not so easily set aside her duty. Yue lay her head against his chest and tried to savor what little she could claim as _hers_.

***

He returned again as the air held a hint of spring. The hungry season would stretch longer, but now Yue's tribe held hope rather than despair as winter's end neared.

"_Yue_," he breathed as they lay together that night, still shaking with shared passion, but she shook her head.

"No," she whispered. "That's not my name."

She felt his confusion and smiled. "Yue is the name the last Speaker gave me, when she saw that I was Beloved of the Moon." She curled deeper into his embrace. "But it's not _my_ name."

Zuko kissed her neck, teeth scraping her skin in the familiar tender gesture. "Then what is _your_ name?"

"Katara," she whispered, and held her breath.

"_Katara_," he sighed, and she smiled.

***

"I have something to tell you, too," he whispered the next night.

"Oh?" she asked, rolling over to face him, but his eyes held unexpected mischief.

"It'll keep 'til next time," he said, biting at her jaw, and she frowned.

"You can't just tell me you have something to tell me and then _not_ tell me."

He grinned, the expression still unfamiliar on his features, and she scrambled up on her elbows to glare at him. "Tell me!"

He didn't tell her and she allowed him to distract her, but she didn't forget even as they moved together and he whispered her real name when they climaxed as one.

***

Zuko lay awake through their last night together, stroking her gently as she lay atop him, her face pressed into his neck and her soft breathing almost a snore. The illness crept forward, sapping her strength even as his blood fought it within her. _Soon, my love_, he told her silently, tracing her cheek with gentle fingers, his claws sheathed this time. _Soon we will be bound together for_ _eternity, and nothing will ever part us._

***

The snow melted slowly, the land slushy and muddy and raw as it appeared. The hungry season stretched too long, the tribe's food stores running low as spring was late to return and the animals still hid from the cold and their traps. The Protector was missing, even his pack bewildered by his absence, and Yue saw ill omens in the land around them.

She fingered the pendant around her neck yet again, the carving now familiar beneath her fingers. She had studied it in sunlight and candlelight and moonlight, the way the stone sparkled with all different shades of blue, the way the swirling patterns could be waves, or flames, or somehow both. She hadn't realized she wore it until she woke alone, saw her mother's necklace draped carefully across the scarf he'd given her. This pendant had been hung on a fine gold chain that glinted like sunset; she had packed it away and strung it on a leather cord instead.

She sighed, affection mingling with the irritation. _Damn you, Zuko, you should have just _asked_._

***

Zuko roved directionless across the landscape; he felt Azula's reavers coming, felt the tribe's pet wolf who fancied himself a _defender_ slink through the bushes following him, but beyond that he felt something far more terrifying approach.

_I can't let them find her, _he thought desperately, and hoped he could hold them for long enough to make the change, to bind her to him for all time.

***

The wolf finally slinked from the darkness a few days later as Zuko paused to rest in the bones of an abandoned village. He and Zuko stared at each other, two predators fighting over a prize, but Zuko finally sighed and looked away.

"I would let you kill me if I thought you could protect her," he said quietly, and the wolf's ears flicked forward. "But there are worse things than me that are out to get her."

The wolf stared at him, too-intelligent eyes gleaming in the dying light. Zuko looked back at him, trying to project sincerity, and finally the great wolf dipped his head. He slipped from the form with a tearing sound and glared at Zuko as he unfolded himself into the shape of a man.

They spoke no more but silent agreement passed between the two unearthly men. _We both have something to protect._

***

Yue pulled herself awake, gasping as the dream faded but its message pulsed in her memory. She reached automatically to touch her mother's necklace but found chiseled stone instead. She clutched it anyway and tried to think of sunset-gold eyes, warm hands on her back, though that brief comfort now held pain.

_I understand_, she thought. _My time has come, and it's time for me to save my people_.

***

He smelled them on the wind as they approached, stood hopefully when he recognized their scents, smoke and lilies and blood.

"Mai!" Zuko called, even as the wolf growled beside him. Relief flooded him, hope for allies in the coming battle, but that hope died at her icy expression.

"_What_, Zuko – you want me _now_?" Beside her, Ty Lee's expression wavered between frown and friendly smile.

"Mai, please, I –"

"You _what_, Zuko? I haven't heard from you for over a year! You could at least have left a _note_!" Her glare deepened, generations of hunters frowning at him through her eyes. "And a _human_, Zuko! The _dessert course_, you called her! You said we'd share her blood before you took your place on the Dragon Throne!"

He winced, remembering the time _before_, how he'd _been_, how it warred with how he was _now_, even as Mai continued. "But it doesn't even _matter_ anymore, Zuko – Azula's on her way to that pathetic little village now! Your father sent her to do what you couldn't!"

_No_… Feeling drained from his body as he heard the truth in her words, felt his sister's distant presence. _I'm a fool_. He started running, dodging the blades Mai flung at him. Behind him, the wolf howled, answered by other wolves, his brothers and wild beasts alike. _Please_, he thought as he ran through the snow. _Please_…

The howls turned angry, the snarls of battle not masking the wolf's anguish, the way his voice followed Zuko as he fled.

"It wasn't supposed to be _you_!"

***

Yue stood alone, holding tightly to the necklace and trying to breathe deeply as the shadows reached long over the snow, dark skeletal fingers seeming to reach for her as the light began to fade.

Her father had protested, the Protector's warriors had vowed to stay and fight, but in the end they had to accede to her wishes as Speaker for the People and Beloved of the Moon.

"I'm so proud of you," her father had whispered as they embraced. "I've always been proud of you. Your mother is, too." Yue had nodded against his chest, swallowing her tears and nodding as he stepped away. She had turned to face the shadows so as not to see her people leave, the tribe walking through snow as she sent them away. As she saved them.

_Zuko_, she now thought wistfully as she waited, darkness creeping towards her as had been prophesized. _I wish I could have bade you farewell. _

The sun slipped below the horizon and a form stepped from the shadows into the snow before her. Yue's heart leapt briefly, hopefully, then she forced herself to calm. The stranger approached, its gait a confident stalk – _a woman_, Yue realized, with eyes like tawny summer grasses and lips like blood and the shimmer of immortality in an aura shot through with black. The woman – the _demon_ – smiled, revealing sharp teeth, and Yue straightened her spine.

"Funny," the woman said, voice arrogant and careless. "You smell like my brother's whore, and yet you're still human." She cocked her head. "How odd."

Yue let the words flow over her as she raised her hands, reached for the river that flowed nearby. _Forgive me_, she thought, drawing it to her in tendrils and snakes – not to heal, this time, but to fight. _And please help me._

***

Zuko arrived too late, the land churned and muddy with both water and blood and he barely glanced at the frozen wave, at his sister caught in its depths.

"Katara," he breathed, gathering in his arms, and she tried to smile even as she gasped for breath.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, reaching a burned and bloodied hand to trace his cheek. "It had to be this way – it always has."

"_No!_" he snapped. "I can _help_ you, I can _save_ you – you can still be mine!"

"Shhhhhh…" she soothed, her blue eyes warm even as her skin grew cold, more ashen than brown. "It's too late for me, my love."

Behind him, he heard ice crack, a faint hiss of steam, and he clutched her to him. "Your sister?" she asked breathlessly, and he forced himself to nod. "She said you were to take me, to bring me back – to give me to your lord and bind the moon spirit to him forever."

"Katara, I didn't – I _did_, but then –"

"I know." She stroked his face and he felt his eyes burn with tears. "But you can't let her take me. She _will_, if she can, and I won't die fast enough to prevent it." Ice cracked again and her expression hardened, determination beside the pain and love there. "You have to help me protect the moon spirit."

"I can't – you don't know what you _ask_." His voice broke and he tried to close his eyes but she held him with the strength of her gaze.

"You have to."

"I can't…" he whispered again, but she took his hands and moved them to her throat, gasping with effort as she held herself up. The smell of her blood, her life draining away so slowly, _too_ slowly, filled the air around them and he felt the tears slip down his face.

"Zuko," she whispered. "I'll wait for you." His hands shook and she tilted her face up and he bent to kiss her. "I love you," she said against his lips, then pulled back. "But next time…" he met her gaze again as she fumbled at her neck, slipped the pendent she wore into his hand, held it with him. "You have to do it _right_. It's _my_ choice, too."

"_Anything_," he sobbed. "I'll do anything you want. Just come back to me."

She let go of his hand again to touch his face. "You'd better." Another hiss of steam cut through the air, then another sharp crack, and her expression turned pleading. "Zuko, you have to."

"I'm sorry…" His voice was broken he pressed down, thumbs in her carotid and jugular, claws concealed behind flesh and bone. "I love you," he whispered, and she closed her eyes, a peaceful smile on her face as he shook with anguish.

He felt her slip away and he screamed aloud and pulled her empty body to him. "I'm sorry," he whispered over and over as her spirit fled, the brightness leaving his mind and cold emptiness in its wake.

Behind him, the ice finally cracked and melted away and too soon he heard his sister's footsteps as she stopped behind him.

"Oh Zuzu," she sighed. "Always a moment too late." She lay her hand on his shoulder, the feel almost comforting, the bond between them for a moment stronger than what she had become, what _he_ almost became. "Better luck next time, I suppose – at least you _tried_."

Danger lurked behind her words, but he couldn't think beyond Katara cooling in his arms as Azula stepped away. "Mai and Ty Lee will be here soon," she said, her voice again cool and brusque. "We will accompany you back to the Fire Nation, and help explain your failure."

It was not an offer and he would have snapped at her, told her to _leave_ like he did when they were children, but his heart had been torn in half and he couldn't find the breath.

***

Zuko left her body beneath a cairn of rocks, guarded by wolves who growled at him as but kept their distance. Her Protector lay there too, joining her in death – her faithful wolf, to the end, even if he had failed.

_Not as badly as I have failed_, Zuko thought. Water lapped gently at the lowest stones, as if the river itself rose to pay respects to her grave.

He struggled not to add his tears to its volume as he finally stepped away. Terrifying emptiness echoed in his mind where the bond had been, a faint ribbon of connection to her spirit he would later feel only when the full moon shone over the land. Zuko fingered the necklace looped around his wrist and felt his eyes burn again as he left the territories and her home behind.

***

_You're a fool_, he thought, much later as he surveyed the rolling plains and thin forests stretching before him again, a lake spreading in the distance. _Azula always lies._

His ruined face still burned with phantom flame, the shame of failure and banishment pale beside the horror of how _alone_ he truly was. Her dying whispers echoed behind his father's voice in his memory.

"_If your folly is finally over, Zuko, you can try to regain your honor. She will return, and you will have your second chance._"

He closed his eyes, remembered her eyes, her skin beneath his hands, her laughter and her gasps and the way her mind brushed against his.

_I'll wait for you_, he promised. _I'll wait for you as long as I have to. And next time_… The promise was to himself now. _Next time I'll do what I should have done. _

_Protect you_.

* * *

**TBC.**

**AN: This ends the 'backstory' to Katara and Zuko's history for the legends portion of the story. The next chapter will return us to the modern-day storyline again, and that *may* take a bit of time, as Real Life rears its ugly head to bite me in the arse again. XD **

**I really can't thank sharkflip enough for helping me out and writing these last few chapters. She has written a few 'bonuses' for me to add in in later chapters, too, so you'll see her wonderfulness again before this story has run its course. (And in the meantime, go check out her profile! She writes beautiful, moving, (erotic) Zutara stories!) Yeah, I bet you're already clicking away from this fic at that last adjective, aren't you? XD**

**Thank you for reading – and if you could, please, PLEASE leave a comment for sharkflip to let her know how much you appreciate her! (She wrote Ch.30-33! Oof!)  
**

**  
Thanks!**

**This chapter posted March 19-20, 2010.**

**--mm**


	34. Chapter 34

**Chapter 34**

Jet slipped his jacket on over his torn clothes, and turned back to look at Zuko. The vampire hadn't moved from his position of solemn vigilance over Katara's prone form since they'd moved back inside, two hours earlier. The house was still littered with blood and glass, but now it was quiet.

It wasn't quite silent, but it was a very particular kind of quiet.

That deathly quiet that always preceded a great change or shift.

They were in her room now, and Jet had packed her things into a few boxes and cases – not that she had much.

Zuko had dressed the unconscious woman in clean clothing, and stayed by her side, a silent, remorseful shadow. His grief at having hurt her, having assaulted her, was plain on his face; it was almost painful to watch. The way the vampire would reach his hand out to stroke hers, but pull it back just before it dared touch her, curling his fingers into a quick, tight fist before releasing it down again to the covers beside her, made it obvious to Jet how hard Zuko found it to reconcile his actions and emotions.

"I know there's more going on here than you're telling me," began the 'were as Zuko's hand advanced, tensed, and retreated once more, and he waited until he had Zuko's attention, as much as the former prince was willing to accord him in his strange, near-mournful state. "But it has to be obvious, Zuko, that Katara isn't safe with you, at least right now. You lost control, man. _She_ got hurt—_she's_ the one who paid the price for it. You clearly can't take care of her if you can't take care of yourself." Zuko's hand twitched. "Leave her with me, just for a few days. I'll take her to see her family in the Territories. She'll be safe there." He moved closer, and put a broad hand on Zuko's shoulder, giving him a firm shake. He continued in the same persuasive tone, compelling the vampire's attention. "If there's one thing I know, it's that the Tribes have their own protective magic; maybe that's just what she needs right now. We'll make up the excuse that it's for her paper. I'll take care of her. _I promise._ We'll figure something out once you're better."

Still the vampire couldn't help the growl that resonated deep in his throat, his fangs sharpening at the insinuation that he, a vampire prince, could not take care of a lowly human.

… and yet, watching the beautiful woman he loved before him, breathing softly in and out, still unconscious from the stress of the forced soulmate bonding and her sudden momentary regression to her past self, he had to admit to himself that he was indeed at fault for harming her. Again.

If only he'd…

His guilt-ridden thoughts trailed off, spiraling again into depressive musings.

"Zuko?" Jet eyed him warily, his body taking on a cautionary stance that would allow him to react and defend himself, if necessary. He removed his hand slowly--.

But it wasn't necessary.

The scarred man lowered his head as he made his decision.

"Take care of her for me," Zuko said hoarsely. "I'll… I'll wipe her memory, she won't remember any of her stay with me. You'll need to make sure she's kept calm for the trip. Any strong emotional reaction could trigger a memory, or fabricate memories to suit the emotion, and that could be dangerous, since we wouldn't know what her mind made up to protect her psyche." Hesitantly, then with more confidence, and finally love, he reached a long-fingered hand out to Katara's pale cheek, stroking it once before he moved closer, over her, and brought his lips to her forehead. With his eyes closed, he held his fingers to the side of her head as he kissed her brow, and waited for the memories to filter through to him through the pathways that connected all things, living and non-living. It took a few minutes, as it tended to, with Jet watching patiently beside them. He felt her emotions as he sifted through each piece, felt the tug as she tried to hold on to some, even in her unconscious state, and had to force himself to rip them from her mind, apologizing to her over and over again. _It'll only make it worse if you remember this, if you remember what I did to you… again… _

It seemed he was always begging her for forgiveness. Still he continued in his purge.

But there was one moment Zuko faltered.

_"Thank you, my love," she whispered, and Zuko pulled her closer as he felt her heartbeat beside his for an instant, the bond throbbing with it._

That instant of pure love, that connection between them. The only one they'd had since she'd been reborn, that one time their heartbeats had beaten as one, that single moment they had been completely in tune…

He couldn't bring himself to remove that memory from her. That spark of joy, simple, pure contentment. It was everything they'd ever wanted, but could never have or hold.

And he'd promised Jet to wipe her memories of the entire stay…

"… _my love_," it played again before him, his heart beating along with the memory of hers. How could he destroy that single moment?

So Zuko buried it, deep within Katara's psyche.

When he straightened, he moved away from Katara, refusing to look at her any further. Jet scooped her up and held her, bridal style, as he left the room.

"Don't worry," he assured the vampire as he settled Katara's head into the crook of his shoulder and neck, "I'll take good care of her."

"She'll wake in a few hours. Make sure she remains calm and doesn't receive any emotionally shocking or trying information. It could… influence her."

"I'll make sure she's ok. I promise," Jet smiled widely and left.

Alone, Zuko turned back to the bed where Katara had lain, before he, too, took his leave.

* * *

The candles flickered in the darkness that night, the wine still warm on their tongues.

"You don't need to give me an answer right now," Jet slipped the ring over her finger, looking meaningfully into her still-clouded eyes, capturing her attention as it flickered into focus and out, like the flames that surrounded them. "But I want you to know I want you beside me for the rest of our lives." His fingers massaged her, up her arms, down her side. "We're going to visit your family for a few days," he nuzzled her hair away from her chin as he led her back, back, towards his bed.

"Family?" she mumbled in confusion, swaying a bit as his strong hands settled at her waist.

"Mmm-hmm," he murmured in her ear, kissing his way to her throat. "Marry me, and we'll make a family together, and be with your family. That's what you want, isn't it? To be near your family again. Because you miss them."

"Marry you?... Family?..." For some reason, she couldn't clear the fog that had settled in her head. His kisses filled her senses, though, and his warm hands warmed her sides, and his comforting, compelling tone enticed her. Yes, she did want to see her family again. And she had always wanted a family of her own, children, her career… all with the man she loved.

The man she loved…

"I love you," he stopped when her legs bumped the edge of his old bed, and he gripped her firmly, his fingers teasing the hem of her shirt. His eyes flared gold for a moment in the dark, catching her blue ones and hypnotizing them.

"I… love you…" she repeated, and he smiled. "But marriage?... I need to think about it."

"Of course, my love."

… _my love…_

Those words… They triggered such overwhelming, indescribable happiness in her heart in a way she'd never be able to explain. With that, she kissed him back, ardently, and they tumbled onto the bed together, hands and mouths eager.

He had her on the plane by the next morning.

* * *

"Jun, when you get in, could you please call me back," growled the Maiden at her Mother. Or rather, her Mother's voicemail. Toph hadn't been able to reach her for several days now. She must be occupied with her 'man', the one she hid from the rest of the coven. Jun always had been her own woman, and was an insanely talented witch—but she was also intensely private, and had never even mentioned her lover's name to her apprentice. Correction, thought Toph sarcastically: Jun referred to him as Kaiser Sousei. The man who didn't exist. So when Jun was off with Mister Sousei… she 'didn't exist', either. Which made it very difficult for said prodigal apprentice to locate her.

The cellphone beeped closed as Toph laid it back down on her desk with a thud.

Right now, the young woman could really do with some mentoring.

"_Toph, we have bad news. It's confirmed: Zuko _is_ the exiled vampire prince from the legend, the one who was sent to collect Yue. We think he's after Katara again, probably for the same reason. She must be the Moon Spirit."_

"_Toph, we're getting reports of 'were activity around Zuko's home."_

"_Toph, we think there's a connection between Long Feng and either Zuko or Jet. We're looking into it."_

"_Toph, tell me what's going on with my sister!"_

"_Toph, how can I help?"_

"_Toph, why won't you tell me anything? Don't you trust me?"_

"_Look Toph, this isn't working out. And Suki and I… It was fun, ok? And a part of me does love you. But these past few days, I've gotten to know Suki, and…"_

"_Toph, if you want, I can help you."_

"_Toph, you need to tell us what's going on!"_

"_Toph-."_

"_Toph!"_

"_TOPH!"_

"Argh, shut up all of you!" she screamed, holding her head in her hands.

The empty, dark room echoed with silence.

She knew something had happened at Zuko's—again. She'd felt it. And worse, she'd 'seen' it. 'Seeing' things was rarely good news, for her.

Hell, when a blind girl starts having visions--'seeing things', was always crazy-talk.

The visions didn't happen often, but when they did, they packed a helluva punch.

Toph debated a moment before sliding a drawer open and taking out the small plastic container. It rattled as she popped the top and shook out two pills into her hands, then re-sealed the tube and placed it back in the drawer.

"So, Sugar Queen and Ghost Walker are soulmates? Perfect," she grunted, settling the drugs on the top of the desk. She rubbed her temples with a tired hand, and leaned back in her chair, propping her feet up on the ink blotter, but not close enough to disturb the caplets.

Seeing and feeling what Katara had seen and felt—there had to be a reason this had been shared with her, Toph thought to herself.

Katara trusted Zuko implicitly. That much had been obvious. The way Toph had felt the other woman's emotions, the love, the _understanding_, it was almost cinema-worthy in its grandness. Katara had apparently not even noticed that there had been another person present with her and her soulmate.

But Toph had noticed.

There was a reason Jet had been in the vision she'd seen, there had to be; but why hadn't Katara noticed him? It was so plain to her: there had been Katara and Zuko, and Jet had been on the periphery, watching them.

It was one of the problems with her 'visions'. She often got absorbed into what one of the participants felt, or what they saw, but rarely was there such a disconnect – as if someone was wanting her to see, truly see, what had happened, and also show her what Katara had missed. Because Katara hadn't been paying any attention to Jet; Toph knew so. She'd been _a part of_ Katara as Katara had stared up at Zuko who was holding her as she'd fallen unconscious again. (Which reminded Toph, she'd have to ask Katara to do that nifty healing thing on her elbow; she'd jammed it in the side of a table by accident the other day.)

Toph sighed, rubbed her head one last time, and swiped the pills from her desk as she stood up, swallowing them dry. She needed rest.

She closed the door to her office behind her and nearly ran into Aang, who'd been waiting for her in the hallway outside her door.

"You ok?" he asked, watching her.

"I'm fine," she pushed past him, intending to ignore his oversensitive concern. He always was a little too touchy-feely for her tastes. How Katara had put up with him for so long was beyond her--.

He surprised her by grabbing her arm, and holding her still.

"I know how much you loved him, and still love him," he said quietly, and felt her stiffen. "And he loves you, too. But not in the way you feel. He doesn't want to hold you back."

"No, he wants to sleep with Suki. I'm fine, Aang, really. What he does is his business."

"Toph, that's not it," he began, but she twisted her arm from his grasp.

"Yes, it is. His feelings changed. That's fine. Whether I like it or not, it doesn't matter. The fact he's barely known her for 2 weeks, I don't care, whatever. I'm going to bed."

"Sokka loves you, Toph," repeated Aang as he paced behind her a few steps.

"Not the way I loved him," she muttered, ignoring the pressure building behind her sightless eyes. Honest to goodness, she was having the worst night ever. Was Aang PMSing or something? She really wasn't up for a girls night—ugh, Aang would probably eat half the 'cosmetics' anyway. The angry young woman's internal diatribe distracted her, as much as she could let it. She continued down the hall to her personal suites, and stepped into her room.

Aang followed.

He shut the door behind him, and waited a moment.

Sure enough, his very presence irritated the powerful witch.

"I'm fine, get out."

Still, he stayed.

She whirled on him when he didn't answer.

"What are you still doing here? I told you go to! I don't want to be near anyone! I just want to go to sleep!"

"Toph, talk to me--."

"Hell no!"

"Toph."

"Get out, Aang. I've had the worst day,"—apart from when Katara died & Zuko resurrected her, but Toph certainly wasn't sharing that particular gem with the Guardian. He was a trained vampire hunter. It wouldn't end well. Toph didn't need her 'second' (hah!) sight to deduce that much. That thought almost made her giggle, and she realized that between her stress and her self-medicating, she was probably a bit hysterical. Great, now she was having fits because of her visions. She wondered how fast she could grow a hundred cats to live on her parents' porch. "Whatever you're up to, or looking for… can it wait until tomorrow?" she rubbed at her still-aching head.

He was watching her, she was sure of it. She could 'feel' him.

… and soon she could just about feel him physically. The warmth emanating off his body was close enough to her back to make the fine, dark hair on the back of her pale neck raise slightly in awareness.

Fed up, the petite woman whirled on the much taller man, poking him hard in the chest.

"I believe I told you to leave."  
"I'm not leaving you."

A smile cracked across Toph's face, baring her teeth. Electricity crackled down her arms.  
"Oh, yes you are. Believe me."

She raised a hand.

"Still like to fly, Twinkle Toes?"

Green light shimmered at her fingertips.

His arms raised—she could feel the air as it moved around them—and settled his warm hands on her shoulders.

"Whenever you need me, no matter what for, I'm here, Toph. I want you to know that. I want you to rely on me, on our friendship. I want--."

"Well, I don't want this! I don't want any of this! I just want things to go back to how they were! I want Katara to be safe, I want Sokka to be my best friend, and I want… I want…"

Her breathing became harsh and shuddery, and still he held his ground.

She coughed, and hiccupped. And coughed again.

"I want…"  
His arms slid down until they circled her, and the green light petered out from her fingertips.

"… a hug?" he ventured.  
"Oh fuck you, Aang."  
He laughed at that, but quietly.

And by the time her tears had started, she'd felt warm arms surround her, a warm chest that let her beat her small fists until she felt numb with fatigue, and an accepting existence that held her close and rocked her to sleep on her own bed.

"You aren't the only one who lost someone," he whispered to her, kissing her on top of her head with careful tenderness. "And you don't need to do everything on your own. Toph, you're so strong. Strong as the earth. You can draw from our strength, too."

As the Guardian lay down beside her, he pulled the covers up over both of them, still fully clothed, and rubbed her back until he drifted off.

For her part, in her dreams, Toph wondered why, over and over again, Katara would need to watch out for Jet…

… And how the Hell she was supposed to deal with the fallout when she woke in the morning. Because it was one thing to wake up beside someone, and another to wake up alone.

* * *

"So, you really expect me to stay in the guest room…" started Jet incredulously.

"Yes."

"While you stay… in your own room…"

"Yes."

Then followed a very pregnant pause.

"Or I could go track down Bato and see if he'd mind if you stayed with him? He's the only person I know well enough to ask. He's a family friend."

She turned to look at Jet with a quirk to her lips.

"How old is he?" he asked suspiciously.

"My dad's age."

He considered a moment.

"They were in the navy together."

"I love the flowery wallpaper in here… It's so leafy and floral…"

Throwing a set of clean sheets at her guest, Katara smirked and left him to make his own bed.

"You need to understand, Jet," she called from the hallway as she found her own bed linens, "I'm the Chief's daughter. I am expected to lead by example. We may be living in modern times, but there are some things, such as a young woman's honor, which are respected here. Typically I'd be expected to call a chaperone in to keep an eye on us--."

She couldn't help laughing at the look of shock and disgust that crossed Jet's face.

"—But, we're adults, and I think that would probably make any other adult laugh or feel uncomfortable anyway."

"So, for the entire time we're here, we can't…."

Katara rolled her eyes. _Men_.

"I'm sure you'll manage."

"I can be very quiet."

"No."

A pause.

"What if we--."

"No."

"Third base?"

"Jet!"

"A guy can try, can't he?" he teased suggestively, sneaking up behind her and grabbing her around her middle. Katara bit down on an exasperated sigh as he tried to sneak a hand around her front to cop a feel. But she knew better than to play along.

"We're expected to go to the Main Lodge to pay our respects and introduce ourselves to the Elders by the end of the day," she explained, slipping out of his grasp like a current of water through rocks. "We also need to get some groceries. It looks like Bato arranged housekeeping while we were all away, but he didn't know to expect us so we'll have to grab our own food."

She picked up her sheets again and made her way to her own room, calling over her shoulder,

"If you're finished in there, you can start a grocery list!"

"Yeah, yeah… First thing we need: C-O-N-D-O-M-S."

"Jet!"

"What?"

Huffing angrily, Katara nearly stomped back to the guest room. _He just doesn't _get it. And ever since the explosion at her apartment, she'd been without her pills (since they'd been so graciously destroyed). She really, really couldn't risk... anything.

"I mean it, Jet," she glared at him now, no longer amused. "You need to understand my position here. You cannot insinuate things like that about me here. The minute you do, that makes it ok for every other guy out there to treat the women here like that," she snapped, good humour forgotten. "And you probably won't find any here on the rez anyway," she muttered for good measure.

This time the young man quirked an eyebrow in her direction.

"Really?"  
"Yes."

"Why?"

Katara's face pinched in distaste.

"Katara? Seriously, why? Ok, I'm sorry, I was acting out to get a rise out of you. But really? They're considered contraband or something?"

Her expression darkening, Katara turned back to her room.

"I'll explain in full later… but let's just say that it's the men who are in charge, and they believe a woman has a very specific place and role around here."

His sharp eyes didn't miss the way her shoulders had tensed, and subsequently slumped as she returned to her room.

"I'll get that list started," he offered, leaning against the door frame to the guest room.

When she looked at him over her shoulder, her eyes didn't meet his.

"Hey," he leveled a look at her. His patented charming grin.

"I don't think you have 'a specific place and role', ok?"

The young woman sighed again, but eeked out a small smile in return.

"Thanks."

* * *

As Jet poked around downstairs, Katara walked slowly from her room to the room at the end of the hall, the one whose door remained almost always shut.

_It's just to make sure everything's ok in there, _she reminded herself. _It's not like I'm expecting anything…_

Yet still she hesitated when her heartbeat sped up, her slim fingers curled around the antique knob, her lower lip slipping gently into her mouth where she nibbled it unconsciously in an old, forgotten bad habit. Almost giving in to the trained response to knock, she grimaced to herself. _No need, remember?...._

She didn't realize she held her breath as she turned the glass in her hand and opened the door, inch by inch to peek inside.  
And therein, all was as it had been, for over a decade, almost two.

The drapes were drawn against the afternoon light, what was left of it, and a few dust motes swirled in the cracks where the limp fabric met. The bed set and comforter, with its neatly folded home-made quilt on top, were the same as when her Gran-Gran had given it to them on their wedding day, though now significantly well-worn; the second-hand lamps by each side of the bed; the bookshelves overflowing with novels and history books and nature treatises. Over the bed hung a few traditional weapons, secured in place with hooks and wire; and on the walls hung a series of watercolours her mother had painted of the tundra and wildlife in different seasons and locations. A few family pictures were interspersed here and there.

On the small end-table between the two windows, the dried flowers sat beside a small silver urn and an unlit candle.

And between them, the picture of her parents, in a laughing, loving embrace, on their wedding day.

"Hi Mom," Katara whispered from the doorway, proud her voice was more happy than apologetic this time. "I'm home."

* * *

"You weren't kidding about the geezers, were you?" muttered Jet under his breath as he pushed the old, rusted-metal cart through the small grocery store. The young man made sure to smile politely and wave to all the residents who were gracious enough to stare unashamedly at him and Katara as they shopped for their supper. "Don't get many out-of-towners on this particular rez, huh?"

"The Elders," she corrected absently, looking over their list again. "Dried goods and freezer section are that way," she pointed. "And no. We're far enough north that only the occasional hiker or hard-core 'outdoor adventurers' come our way. Usually with hypothermia or frostbite."

"I couldn't actually tell if they liked me or not," he began again, chewing on a swizzle stick from the mediocre coffee he'd drank earlier from the Lodge. "What do you think? Should I sleep with one eye open?"

"I'd recommend watching your back while we're here, regardless of what they thought of you," the alert young woman said quickly, recognizing some of the men who were 'casually' leaning against the freezer section they were searching for. In a silent group. A very grim-looking, disapproving, silent group.

Her blue eyes narrowed and went cold. "Stay behind me, and let me handle this," she breathed to Jet, her eyes not leaving the pack ahead of her.

Jet flicked his eyes up and followed her gaze.

"I mean it," she said tersely, and continued on her way as if there wasn't a lynch mob blocking her from the frozen peas. Already she could smell the alcohol, among other unsavoury things, that emanated from the gathered men.

"Good afternoon, good afternoon, excuse me, good afternoon," she chirped pleasantly, trying to squeeze through the wall that blocked the better part of the frozen goods.

The men feigned ignorance and remained where they were, arms crossed in front of them, staring at the walls, the floor, the ceiling, anywhere but at Katara and Jet.

Refusing to be daunted, Katara smiled brightly at them and continued her overly-cheery greetings.

"Hi Koro, how're your wife and kids? I bet the youngest is about ready to graduate now, isn't he? Does he need a reference letter getting into university or college?" She turned to another. "Why Luka, fancy meeting you here in the middle of the day during working hours. I remember when Mom had to rush out to your place that one time when I was a kid to help take care of your wife after she ran into a doorknob--again. How is she these days?" And another. "Why Paf, I didn't even see you there. I didn't realize you guys got together to have meetings of the Big Man Club here at the Valu-Mart! Is it ok if I go get a strap-on and join you all?"

That got a reaction, as she'd expected.

"Why you little--," one of the men, Koro, made a grab for her jacket, but Katara slipped out of his reach.

"You always were uppity, thinking you were too good for the rest of us," spat another, one who hadn't received a 'greeting'. He seemed to consider the disregard an insult rather than a blessing.

"You think just because you're the Chief's daughter, we won't teach you a lesson?" sneered Luka, who did grab Katara's jacket this time, yanking her to him until they were nose to nose. So focused was he on Katara, who'd grabbed his hands and glared right back at him, that he didn't see Jet moving away behind her. "Little bitch, if you knew what was good for you, you'd have stayed away at your fancy 'university' and never come back. We don't need you here. We need women who know how to help their sisters and brothers and family. Who want to stay and make the Tribe stronger. Not rile the women up, starting arguments and breaking up perfectly good homes."

"You mean the perfectly good home you made for your wife, Luka? The one you make her clean everyday in those rags for clothes, while you're out gambling and drinking your allowance? How's that 'winning streak' you keep saying you're waiting for? Has it shown up yet?"

"You should keep your mouth shut, you little whore--," the man's face turned furious as his thick, heavy hand reared back to smack Katara's unapologetic face.

He didn't get the chance, though, as the next thing he knew, he was laid out flat on his back on the dirty linoleum floor, and another tall, broad, long-haired man held his shoulders down.

"Now, that's no way to treat one of our daughters who has been gone so far away for so long," came a deep, patient voice. "Sounds like everyone needs to take a few minutes to themselves and carry on their way."

"Bato!"

Hardly leaving her saviour a moment to regain his full height, Katara leapt at him, her arms tightening around his neck as she smiled into his chest. The corners of his normally stern mouth crept upwards a bit as the tall man hugged her back warmly, too. "Welcome back, Katara."

There was much muttering and cursing under breath as the other men glared back before Bato gave them a look that clearly said, "Move along."

"I was going to visit you tonight! I can't believe you're right here!" her blue eyes shone happily, excitement bubbling in her words.

"And just in time, too," he said slowly, eyeing her with a thoughtful look on his face. "Katara, I know you mean well, but please don't antagonize men like them."

Some of her original enthusiasm faded at his chastising. "But Bato, you know what they're like--," she started, but he cut her off with a look.

"And so do you," he retorted, watching her meaningfully.

They were both silent a moment, until Katara dropped her gaze and crossed her arms in front of her like a petulant child. "Sorry. I know. Habit." Had she still been a child, her look could only have been described as a pout. "But they had it coming."

Bato smiled, unbeknownst to her, then gave her another quick hug to his side. "Luckily, you have a smart young man here to help look out for you."

"Oh, Jet!" Katara suddenly looked around, and when she found her boyfriend, waved him over. "Bato, this is--."

"We've met," smiled the older man, reaching out a hand. "Well, it's nice to have a name to go with the face."

"Likewise," Jet added respectfully as he firmly shook the offered hand. "Sorry to drag you into this, but when I saw you outside, I recognized you from the pictures in Katara's living room. Katara's spoken well of you. Thanks for watching out for her."

"Anytime." Bato glanced down at the groceries in their cart. "So you're here for at least a week or so, with all that. Remember to stop by my place for supper before you go. It'll be nice to catch up. Bring your…new friend."

Katara couldn't help the slight blush that crept across her cheeks.

"Bato, it's ok. He's a good guy."

"We'll see," he smiled back like a benevolent, overprotective uncle. "I admit, he's made a good first impression, though. You take care now, see you later. Jet," he nodded, and Jet waved in return.

The pair waited until Bato had bid farewell to the cashier and left the store before turning to one another; then Katara nearly wilted in relief.

"Technically, I did let you handle it," reminded Jet, rubbing her back as she rested her head on her arms on the cart.

"I'm in sooo much trouble when Dad comes home," she muttered under her breath.

"I'm sure Bato will take your side; and I've got a feeling your dad already knows what guys like that are like."

"… oh he does…"

He couldn't resist teasing. "And what you're like."

"Screw you."

Jet glanced down at her, amused at seeing his usually indomitable girlfriend cowed by a family father-figure's disapproval.

"So, I think _he_ liked me." He couldn't help the smug tone that enveloped his words as he watched Katara's eyebrow tick in annoyance.

"Let's finish the groceries and go home. Wanna watch a movie tonight?"

"Sure." He paused, curious. "Do you have cable at your house?"  
Katara paused next. "We'll have to see what we have on tape in the cupboard."

"On _tape_? You mean _VCR_?"

She punched him in the arm. "There's nothing wrong with VCRs, thank you very much."

"Oh no, not if you didn't outlive the '80s. Like the rest of the civilized world. Do you have a CD player there?"

She hit him again. Harder.

"Ow!" he laughed, rubbing his newly-forming bruises. "Ok, ok, I'm sorry. Let's go watch… Wait, the _Power Rangers_ came out in the '90s, didn't it? What did they have that was good in the '80s?"

"…_My Little Pony, the full-length animated feature_."

Jet stopped in his tracks and stared at his suddenly deeply sadistic girlfriend. _She wouldn't…. _

Katara grinned innocently back.

His eyes narrowed. _She_ would.

His Whiskey Tango Foxtrot expression did not emit any form of acceptance of her suggested viewing material.

This time it was Katara's turn to look smug. "_She-Ra, Princess of Power_."

He couldn't help it, he winced.

"Possibly some _Jem_? How do you feel about pink hair?"

All Jet's previous enthusiasm left him, and the poor man was left looking like a soggy sock had slapped him in the face.

"Oh all right. Fine. And _Transformers_." She rolled her eyes at him as his lit up with excitement. "Possibly some _Ninja Turtles_ and _Thundercats_, but we'll have to see what's there. It's been years since I last checked."

"Really?! Well that's ok. So, what's for supper tonight?..."

As they squabbled over what to get for their meal, Katara smartly kept mum about the fact that the VCR's remote control had been sacrificed to one of Sokka's 'inventions' when they were children, and that they would no doubt have to spend hours rewinding the tapes that night, one finger on the rewind button of the machine, before they'd be able to watch anything.

Well, it would keep her boyfriend busy for a while, at least.

_Men_, she thought to herself, automatically slapping one of his hands when it dipped below her waist.

"Sorry, forgot," he mumbled lowly.

_Men_, she sighed again.

* * *

"This is cruel and unusual," Jet muttered through clenched teeth, his hands clasped tightly in his lap as he leaned forward tensely on the couch.

"This is necessary," corrected Katara with a sigh, lounging out full length. On a separate couch.

"I promise, I will keep my hands to myself," started Jet again, barely looking at his girlfriend as Shredder and his Foot Clan terrorized New York on the small screen.

"Uh huh, right."

"Come on!" he whined, finally turning to her with a pained look on his face.

"Lead by example, Jet," she reminded for the hundredth time. "Pretend there are small children in the room."

"Small children would be in bed by now," he groused, then perked up. "If we had small children, I could still--!"

She gave him a non-plussed look.

"Top on?"

She remained impassive.

"…If I promise to keep my pants on?"

Katara rolled her eyes and sighed a much aggrieved, _"Lord love a duck,"_ under her breath, before standing up and glaring at him.

"I'm going to shower."

Her boyfriend suddenly took on the demeanour of a national lottery winner.  
But Katara's sadistic side made a comeback and she wallowed in his downcast face when she added, "With the door shut, locked, and curtain drawn. Good night, Jet."

"Good night," he mumbled, and sulked in front of the television as she made her way upstairs.

"Don't forget to rewind the tape when you're done!" she called down.

"I hate leading by example," he mumbled, and out of sheer spite jammed the buttons extra-hard to turn off the TV.

Then sat quietly, still pouting, with his finger on the rewind button for ten minutes as the tape wound-back.

"Stupid VCRs."

* * *

Another knock, another patient few minutes spent waiting at the ever-impenetrable closed door.

She tried again, for the sixth time.

"Master Pakku! Are you there?" Katara called, her nose red and her knuckles raw from rapping on the blockage in front of her. Over the past few days, she'd learned she hated closed doors.

"The neighbours said he hasn't left his house other than to check his traps," Jet informed her as he trudged up the snowy walkway. "They wished us well and gave us a thermos of hot chocolate. They were really friendly."

"They'd have to be, to put up with this jerk," Katara muttered blisteringly under her breath as she warmed her hands with said breath. It was bad enough that it was frigidly cold out of doors at the moment, but the fact that her mittens had muffled her knocks to nothing had meant she had to do without as they tried to get through to the man who had sealed himself away from the better part of the Tribe. If he wasn't dead on the floor inside his reclusive little fortress, she was damn well going to put him there by the time she finished with him…

"Master Pakku!" she called again, adding a less polite thumping quality to her knocking now. "My name is Katara Kuruk, I'm here to talk to you about your work! Could you please spare me a few minutes of your time?"

Forcing himself to be patient and supportive, Jet stood back, knowing it was useless to talk Katara out of something she had her heart set on.

… Though after three visits so far and not even a hint of acknowledgment from the reclusive old bastard, he was beginning to sympathise with her thoughts of manslaughter.

Apparently, Katara was losing her patience, too.

"_You shitty old man, open up!"_ she suddenly screamed, reaching her boiling point.

_Kick-kick-kick-kick-kick-kick-!_

_-…Crack!_

Jet's mouth dropped open.

Katara's eyes bulged.

"Run," was all she said, and they high-tailed it back to the truck.

* * *

"Solid oak," mumbled Jet incredulously to himself again. "Solid oak…"

"Shut up, I'll figure something out," muttered Katara, steering the old four wheel drive vehicle as fast and as carefully as she could down the slippery road.

Away from the scene of the crime.

"And you'd just announced who you were, too…"

"I said,_ shut up, _Jet!"

"I'm still on probation!" he countered, his face sinking into his hands.

"I said I'll think of something, you crybaby! Now shut up and let me drive!"

With a resigned sigh, Jet peeked up over his fingers. "So where are we headed while we're on the lam?"  
"The retirement home."

At this, Jet's head nearly swiveled like an owl's. "What the f--…" Then his eyes lit up. "Actually, that's a great idea! They'll never think to look for us there! That's my girl!"

For her part, Katara merely growled as she suffered his enthusiastic side-embrace, downshifting noisily.

"Hey, don't take it out on the ride! This is our only getaway mobile!" he protested, rubbing the scuffed, peeling dashboard in a soothing manner. "It's ok, she didn't mean it, please keep working, even if you are older than I am…"

_Gran-Gran, please be lucid when we get there, _prayed Katara as she swerved to avoid a patch of ice. _Please, please be lucid…_

"Hey, have you ever tried to do donuts in this thing?" asked Jet, interrupting her mental appeal for divine intervention.

"_I SAID SHUT UP AND LET ME DRIVE!"_

"… yes, ma'am!..."

_.... please, if you love me, you'll be lucid today..._

**TBC.**

* * *

AN: Thank you so much, again, to sharkflip for her contributions! (For those of you who haven't caught them yet, check out drisela's illustrations (of sharkflip's chapters) on deviantArt and the zutarotica LJ comm.! OMG, they're so hot! Thank you, drisela!)

--mm (17 April, 2010)


	35. Chapter 35

**Merits 35**

"Nightmares again?"

Katara blinked through her itchy, exhausted eyes at her boyfriend. "More like weird dreams." She yawned widely, not missing his skeptical look. "Ok, maybe…"

Keeping his curiosity well contained, the 'were sipped his coffee and smiled at her reassuringly. "Probably just all the upheaval of being home again. Sometimes you just need to relax a bit. We can pick up a sleeping aid in town later, if you want. At least it'll help you get through the night?"

Nodding faintly and suppressing another yawn—poorly—Katara stumbled over to the fridge to collect some eggs for her breakfast.

"I hate those things, but at this point, I'll take anything," she confessed, putting a pan on the stove.

Still watching her with thoughtful brown eyes, Jet drank the rest of his coffee.

* * *

That night, the house was nearly silent as its occupants slept. Or tried to.

It was a restless sleep for one.

Katara's dreams were back again that night, but this time it felt like someone was sitting on her chest, holding her down so she couldn't get up—or wake up.

"There's more to me than you think, Katara. We need to…"

The words faded out in her dream, and she struggled to catch them, feeling like she was physically struggling against something.

Why was the voice familiar?

It was deep and resonated within her, but was it Jet's voice… another's voice? Both their voices? Could it be two voices, speaking to her?

Her mind's eye conjured an image before her, of ice she clawed and thrashed at as she tried to breach the surface of a frozen lake; the water sucked at her too strongly, though, and she felt a rush of currents around her, signaling a hunter was closing in on her, the prey.

"Katara, hold on, I'm coming back for you…"

The voice again.

Why couldn't she place that voice?

"Help me!" she wanted to scream, but the sleeping pills made her too groggy to articulate or control her vivid imagination. "I can't… I can't move!"

"Sleep, love, and remember. Remember me."

It shushed and tried to calm her, but the nightmare took over her once more.

Down she looked and saw the golden-eyed shark closing in on her.

* * *

Jet stood at the door to Katara's room and watched her with worried eyes.

She was obviously stuck in a nightmare again, but whatever was bothering her, she never remembered it. He doubted the sleeping pills would remedy that. His throat closed over as she moaned and trembled, unable to thrash as she had the past few nights because of the sleeping pills she'd taken that night, always fighting her dreams and hallucinations.

He was just turning to go back to bed—he'd never been able to rouse her, and it bothered him he couldn't help her—when her dream started to change.

Subtly, Katara's moans changed in pitch, her tremors shifted into shudders, and her mumblings took on a different tone altogether.

It took the werewolf less than a split-second to realize what the shift meant, how her dream had changed; and he was about to finally allow a bit of relief to seep into and dispel his worry…

… when he heard her mumbling and murmuring in _that_ language.

The one he'd only heard once before.

The one she had shared with Zuko.

The werewolf's eyes narrowed.

Before him, slowly, her agitated writhing slowed, then ceased; her voice softened, then drifted off; and her final words… he remembered where he'd heard those before.

A few minutes later, he was watching her quiet breathing, in and out, indicating she'd finally succumbed to a restful sleep.

But his heartbeat thundered in his tight chest, his breathing was harsh now, and his lips pulled back as he snarled aloud once, his frustration reaching a meteoric high.

_She was dreaming of __**him**__!_

The realization made him see red, and before he realized it, he was moving forward towards Katara, stripping his housecoat off his shoulders to hurl to the floor.

_That vampire scum! When he, her fiancé, was in the next room!_

He forced himself to calm down, to slow down, but he'd had enough. He was tired of being in a three-way relationship; especially one with a blood-sucking noble.

One of them had to leave, and it wouldn't be himself.

Decision made, he took the last step and stopped in front of his fiancée. Her cheeks were slightly rosy, and her face was finally peaceful.

… but it was because of that thing. That vampire.

Well, it was stopping, now.

From now on, he, _Jet_, would be the center of her attention.

His heartbeat slowed as his eyelids lowered, his brown eyes shifting to cold, glittering gold as they raked over his lover's blanket-covered body possessively.

Jet would make her remember him, dream of him, think of nothing but him; he would make sure that by morning, there would be nothing left of Zuko in his lover.

Not a single feeling towards that intruder, not a positive thought, not even the minutest attention would she pay to him.

He would make sure of it.

And he'd leave his own brand on her. All over her.

A small, self-assured smile slid across his tanned face as he shook his shaggy dark hair from his eyes. She was his, not Zuko's.

Always.

Loosening the drawstring on his pyjama trousers, Jet reached for the blankets that he'd just a few short hours ago tucked lovingly around Katara's chin.

He would make sure she would never be able to leave him again.

* * *

"How did you sleep?"

"… better… I think…" the young woman shook her head a bit as she made her way to the bathroom. "But it felt like something was holding me down."

With his back to her as he made them coffee, Jet nodded. "It didn't sound like your nightmares were so bad last night. Maybe you should keep taking those pills for a bit? See if it's just a temporary thing."

Still fuzzy-brained from the sleep that yet clawed at the fringes of her consciousness, Katara tipped her head in a maybe-yes, maybe-no kind of way. "I'm going to take a shower."

"Coffee'll be waiting."

As she closed the door behind her, Katara brushed her teeth and stripped off her pyjamas. She'd felt… _strange_, when she woke that morning. But the remnants of the sleep-inducer left it difficult for her to focus, and she couldn't quite figure out _why_ she felt strange. It was probably just the dreams again, she decided. Nightmares, dreams, whatever.

But when she rose from the toilet to slip into the steaming shower she'd run, she noticed it.

It had been so long since she'd gone without protection, it took her a moment to recognise it for what it was, but then it clicked in.

Her heart stopped, and her throat went dry in disbelief.

She wasn't sure whether to scream in fury, or cry.

No wonder it had felt like someone was holding her down.

* * *

"Hey, it took you a while. Were you trying to use up all the hot-water—ow!"

Katara slapped her boyfriend in the mouth. Hard.

And again.

And again.

And again…

"How could you do that to me! You asshole! You jerk! I'll never forgive you! That's rape! That's…"

And again.

And again.

And she kept hitting him, and kicking him, and knew all the while it was futile, but did it anyway.

Because there was no way she could hurt him the way he'd hurt her.

And there was no way she could go to a pharmacy that wasn't a 6-hour drive away without putting all the women of her tribe at risk.

And 6 hours was just too late.

As Jet watched her, her small fists hitting him (hard, for her, but for him, hardly noticeable), he saw the way she was curling in on herself; the way she was giving in; and how she still hadn't said she hated him.

He didn't deny it, there was no point.

But he would make her see.

He would definitely make her see how it was for her own good. He'd done it for them.

Because he loved her, and she needed to stay with him. He'd hoped he would never have to bind her the way he had…

Her fists had stopped hitting him, and her tear-stained cheeks sobbed against his shirt as he tried to hold her close.

… but he wasn't sorry. Not one bit.

In his arms, Katara struggled to free herself but he held fast, and she eventually gave up completely, her knees buckling as she sobbed.

If all went well, she would be dependent on him soon for much, much more.

* * *

"What is the link between the girl, the Slayer, and the Bei Fongs?"

Speaking aloud to himself, his hands loosely held behind him as he stared out over the glittering nightline cityscape, Long Feng contemplated the possibilities.

The girl had been rescued by the Slayer; the Slayer had been rescued by the Bei Fong syndicate's grunts…

And everyone in the underworld knew the Bei Fong Group. Though they were rarely as active in… certain activities… as they once were, they were still a formidable, established presence. In truth, he'd considered offering them an invitation to partner up for a new project. Not that that partnership could happen now, now that they had hindered him in his plans.

But to take sides? It was very un-like the Bei Fongs. Normally they sought to distance themselves from politics, seeking only financial gain. They were perfectly happy to be an independent, free agent.

But something had shifted within the Bei Fong Group. While always an underworld power, they'd never exerted their 'other' skills much before, even if they were recognized as being a magically endowed clan.

And to have the power of such a strong witch within their ranks?

Because Long Feng knew there had to be one; he'd felt the magic resonating around the soldiers who'd taken down his retrieval squad. Whether a Maiden, Mother, or Crone, he wasn't sure, but one of them had interfered every time he'd tried to collect the girl, Katara.

And it wasn't a dime-a-dozen street conjuror who'd made the ward that had protected the girl in her apartment.

He'd had a remarkably difficult time re-tuning it to reverse its polarity. It had cost him the lives of some of his most faithful servants, getting enough life-force to counter it. A pity, but necessary. Good help was so hard to find; but the Moon Spirit was a rarity worth it.

No, there was something odd about the situation, and he needed to understand it all as soon as he could. He would be playing host to a very important guest, soon.

"Dai Li," the authority rang through his voice as an agent dropped to his side in a kow-tow. "I want you to investigate the Bei Fong family. Find out why there is a slayer with them; and find out the connection between them and the water tribe girl, Katara Kuruk."

"At once, sir."

* * *

"I just wish you were awake, Gran-gran," Katara said to her grandmother's still form. She'd left Jet in town as she'd made her way to the retirement home that morning, and while a very clear day, it was bitterly cold, with no cloud cover to help hold in the warmer air that may have otherwise circulated. She'd needed time away from him.

She needed to figure things out.

So she found the wisest woman she'd ever known.

Even if this woman held her wisdom from the rest of the world, now…

"I came here to see you, to see that 'Great Historian and Master Storyteller Pakku', to try and get my research done so I can go back and finish my school work… But everything has blown up in my face. And now… "

The young woman sighed as frustration made tears warm her eyes. She was so tired of crying. It felt like she'd been crying all day. Actually, she had been crying all day. No wonder she was exhausted. The tightness in her chest wouldn't ease at all, though, no matter what she did.

"Now I feel like I can't make my own decisions at all—I keep failing. Because obviously I can't choose the right person to love, and I can't make my schoolwork work, and I can't help you… I don't even remember when I last saw Dad… and when we next meet-up, I know I'm in trouble and he's going to be disappointed in me. _Again_." How was she going to face that disapproval? "I keep feeling like there's something out there for me, Gran-gran. Like if I just keep looking, a little bit harder, I'll find my place. I'll be where I belong. I'll become who I'm meant to be. I worked so hard, Gran-gran, I… I'm making all these mistakes, though. And I don't know how to make them right anymore. I used to be so good at everything. Really good! And now..."

The old woman, well into her eighties, didn't make a sound, or give any indication she could even hear her beloved granddaughter. The instruments and machinery which helped keep her alive—a relative term—beeped softly or made the occasional muted _whoosh_ as it helped pump palliative medication into her dying system.

But she didn't wake.

With another sigh, Katara looked up and smoothed the wiry gray hair from her grandmother's wrinkled brow.

This beautiful, strong, wonderfully capable woman who'd been her mother longer than her own mother had been able to be…

Was this how she was going to spend her few precious hours together with her?

Katara immediately felt contrite at her selfishness.

"I'm sorry to complain, Gran-gran. Thank you for listening. If you know of anyone who can help me, please, pass them my way? I could use a blessing right now. Even a blessing in disguise." She smiled at her grandmother, then, even though the receiver couldn't see it. "Maybe I'll talk to the nurses to see if we can have a brushing-off ceremony in here, for both of us. We could both use some clarity right now, huh?" She chuckled. "You hold out for me, ok, Gran-gran?"

The young woman squeezed her grandmother's hand warmly before lying it back down beside her sleeping body on the bed, and kissed her cheek before she left.

"Love you, Gran-gran," she said as she closed the door softly behind her.

* * *

For the third time, someone knocked something off his table.

He'd been minding his own business as he waited in town for Katara to get back (he'd refused to stay at her home, and she'd dropped him off on her way to see her family). But the nudges to his elbows were annoying, the 'accidental' spills too close to his lap were insulting, and the way that last pissant had flicked his knife over the edge of the table was the last straw.

This wasn't coincidence anymore.

Glancing up from his coffee and muffin, Jet looked over the entire diner, assessing the other patrons.

As they always had done, they ignored him—all except for that pair of trouble-makers, the ones with the longish hair, toques, and the plaid, insulated jackets. They were always smirking at him, taunting him. Trying to see what he'd do, how far they could push him.

He knew that while they were in the village, Katara would not speak of what had happened between them; so whatever these jokers were planning, it looked like it didn't involve her current (hopefully for him) state.

Feeling the slightest twinge of guilt (not for what he'd done, but for how upset it had ultimately made her), Jet considered his options, and how much more stress Katara could handle.

Then one of the jokers tilted his head at the door, and he and his friend gave him a look and left.

Knowing he really couldn't put things off anymore, Jet stood, left some money beside his small plate, and made his way outside to where the pack was waiting for him.

That frigid, bitter wind cut straight through his clothes and hat as he walked up to them.

"You could have joined me for coffee inside," he said casually with a nod of his head at the door. "A lot warmer in there." He didn't take his dark eyes off the group of young men who were aiming to surround him. He wasn't stupid, he knew what this was. Or, rather, what they intended it to be.

"We're not here for coffee," said one.

"We think you need to understand how things work around here. We're just being friendly."

"Like a welcome wagon."

Snickers and chuckles rippled through the ranks.

"That's very hospitable of you, I feel more welcome every minute I'm here," replied Jet, not missing the sound of predatory paws pit-patting closer. From behind the building several wolf-dogs approached, teeth bared and eyes sharply focused on him.

"So what can I do for you and your pets?"

One of the wolves growled in warning.

"Hi again, Luka, how's your face?"

The wolf stilled, its gold eyes suddenly widening.

Jet let a sliver of a smile pull at the corners of his mouth. "Oh, I know a lot more about you than you know about me."

With that, he started unzipping his jacket, stuffing his hat inside as he tossed them on the ground.

"By the way, your new alpha's name is 'Jet'," he said cockily as he felt the electric thrummings of the change zip along his sensitive skin.

"Nice to meet you, bitches."

His own change had barely completed when the entirety of the assembled pack sicked on him in a mad dogpile.

* * *

Katara had poked her head into the diner on her way home; and checked the gas station, grocery store, and even library (knowing the last was a long-shot, but maybe they had a porn historical section her boyfriend could have looked through); and had even made a quick round of the convenience stores within walking distance.

When she hadn't been able to find Jet, she'd headed home (with the groceries she'd picked up), and had just pulled into the drive when she noticed the blood trail leading up to the door.

"Oh my spirits…"

Sprinting from the car, the medic-side of her automatically sprang into action as she raced through the garage to the connecting door, the morning's tirade and its catalyst gone from her mind only to be replaced by the urgency to heal whoever was hurt.

She'd just entered the living room when she heard the male laughter from the kitchen. It brought her to a dead stop; laughing?

Curious now, she jogged down the hall and looked in.

Her eyes bugged.

"Hello, Katara," said Koro respectfully.

"How is your grandmother?" asked Luka, getting up and taking his hat off in her presence.

Her jaw dropped.

"The guys just dropped by to see you for a few minutes," explained Jet from beside the coffee-maker. She noticed that all the men had bruises and abrasions on them, and was starting to get an idea of what had happened, and why everyone was suddenly so… amenable.

Meanwhile, the others nodded quickly at Jet's lead-in.

"They have something to say."

As one, the group of men stood, removed their hats, and looked at the floor.

"We're very sorry, Miss Kuruk," they chorused lowly.

Completely floored, she nearly fell against the doorjamb. She shook her head a minute, and then looked back at Jet. Unlike the others, he watched her openly, waiting for her reaction.

"It's…"

The men before her shuffled awkwardly.

"It's… apology accepted, boys. Thank you very much."

There was a whoosh of relief as the men sagged and chuckled a bit to themselves, then they all turned back to the table and their previous conversations.

"Um, Katara, if you have a minute, would you mind arranging a time this week we'd be able to talk about my… gaming problem?"

_Gambling_, she realized fuzzily.

"Yes, I'd be happy to."

"And I've had a problem with my foot for a while," said another, the one who'd listed to the side a bit when they'd all stood.

"I'm sure I can make time for you over the next few days."

"And I have this thing that's been…"

With that, their hesitation vanished; it was as if a dam had burst.

The requests for help, as if they respected her expertise and opinion, flooded in and inundated the young almost-doctor.

She knew she should be referring them to another, proper physician, but the nearest one was hours away. It was no wonder they just lived with their problems. She knew she'd been needed in her tribe before… but she'd never expected the men, _these_ men at that, to accept her as their medic.

As one finally asked if he could speak to her about his 'private' condition, she nodded and put her hands up.

"All right – I will start seeing everyone starting tomorrow morning, bright and early. And I'll talk to my dad to see if he can arrange a regular visit from a physician and counselor to the Tribe, to help write and replenish prescriptions, too, over the next few months."

The men quieted a moment as her words sank in.

"What do you mean, 'next few months'?" one asked, suspiciously.

"Just until I finish my last course or two for my degree. I've done my residency concurrently, so as long as I'm affiliated with a clinic nearby, I should be allowed to practice on my own within 2 years. And… if you'll have me here… there's no where else I'd rather be."

There was a moment of silence again as they considered her words.

Across the room, Jet straightened and smiled openly.

"That's good news for the tribe. One of their daughters will be coming back to settle in permanently. Maybe this will encourage others to come back."

Their leader had spoken.

That was when they cheered, and after a few pats on the back—Jet's back—the men gathered their things and made their way to the door.

"Where did they all park?" she asked quizzically. Katara was still quite stunned at the entire display.

"Oh, down the road. We wanted to surprise you," replied Jet, slipping an arm around her waist as they watched everyone depart. He didn't mention how far down the road—in fact, all the way back in town, because he'd made them all walk to Katara's home—but she didn't need to know that.

"How… how did you… ?"

Grinning, he realized she was so floored by this situation she'd completely forgotten about the events of that morning.

"You should know that a lady never asks and a gentleman never tells."

She raised an eyebrow at him. "Isn't it the other way around?"

"Is it?"

Huffing at him in frustration, Katara rolled her eyes.

"Come help me with the groceries, they're still in the car…"

"You know you're not out of trouble," said Katara that night as she dried the last dish and put it away in the cupboard. Just outside the window the full moon shone brightly down on the frozen landscape, though the kitchen was still illuminated by the single light above the stove.

But Jet stayed silent.

It was the first time they were discussing the incident, and it was a quiet conversation.

"And I will never trust you again." She stood with her back to the counter now, glaring at him with her arms crossed in front of her.

"If… anything comes of this, I don't want you to have any part of it." Her fingers tightened and her voice choked for a moment, as she thought of the specific consequence that worried her. It hadn't cost her everything, exactly, but… she thought of the women of her tribe, how the ones who were unmarried with children were treated… she was not going to have an easy, pleasant time of things.

If it happened.

"I don't want to ever see you again, when we get back to Ba Sing Se." Her face was tight, remote.

"And I don't know what you did this afternoon." She stopped herself, raised an eyebrow as she noticed the cuts and scrapes that covered him—though she would have sworn they'd seemed much worse earlier, when she'd first come home. The dark-haired woman reconsidered her words.

"All right," she said as his lips quirked into a faint semblance of his cocky smirk, "I actually have a _pretty good_ idea of what happened this afternoon. BUT!" she glared at him harder, "I don't approve of that, either."

"So where does this leave us, then?"

"There is no more 'us', Jet. If I need to be a single mother, so be it. I will return here, to my home, and at least know that you can never hurt me again."

From where he leaned against the fridge, Jet's dark, smoky eyes watched her brittle posture. She had agreed to come home, and that was the first step.

It was time to put his plan into action.

"Do it," he said softly.

"What!"

"Do it," he repeated, his eyes never leaving hers. "You've already told the men here you'll be returning here sooner than expected, since you'll be finishing up your last residence requirement in the tribe if you can swing it with the local medical association. So come back here. Work here. Live your life here. Raise your son here-."

"Stop making assumptions-."

"I'm not."

They glared at each other.

"But in case you hadn't noticed, I helped get you accepted here. I got those dogs to apologise to you. And I will be your child's father." He paused, watching her angry expression darken further. "And I will be the only father to your children, and I will be part of their life."

"Not a chance."

"Tribe law is different from judicial law, Katara," he said quietly.

Katara felt her stomach tighten in apprehension.

"You wouldn't…"

Jet held her vision.

"I would. And I will."

"You can't do this to me," she whispered hoarsely. Not hoarse from fear, but rather fury. _How dare he threaten her._

"Katara, I'd already asked you to marry me. I love you. The reason I…" he felt his eyes bleed from brown to gold, held her attention as his words took hold of her, "… went into your room last night was because you were calling for me."

"I thought you said I didn't have any nightmares last night?"

Her voice changed incrementally as his gaze gathered hers in its focus; it was shifting from the righteous anger of a few moments ago to confusion, hesitation.

"You called for me to come to you. You wanted me to sleep with you. You wanted me to join you, Katara. Don't you remember?"

"… but I'd had the sleeping pills. I couldn't have…"

Jet started stalking closer to her, slowly, never letting her eyes drop from his.

"You did, though. Don't you remember? You pulled back your covers, you took off your clothes for me, you told me to get undressed."

"… but I don't remember any of this. I thought I slept all night."

Now only a few feet from her, Jet reached out and put an arm on either side of her, pinning her to the counter. Slowly, achingly slowly, he leaned further in, never breaking eye contact. Hers were cloudy again, he noted in satisfaction.

"But you do remember. You told me to touch you, remember?"

"Touch… me?..."

"You took my hands and pulled them to your hips," he said, his breath warm against her cheek; his palms squeezed her sides. "You arched your back and rubbed your breasts against my chest." He closed the distance between them and backed her up against the counter; he didn't miss her sharp intake of breath as their bodies met.

Never letting their gazes waver, he pursued her further.

"You told me to lie with you, and you opened yourself to wrap your legs around my waist," he whispered against her mouth.

"… but I don't remember… are you sure?"

"Oh yes, baby, I'm sure. You wanted me."

"I did…?"

"You touched yourself waiting for me."

Katara's cheeks blushed.

He rolled his hips into hers, dominating her. "You were so ready for me, when you lifted your ass off the bed, you took me in in one thrust. It was so smooth, baby. You wanted it."

"… I did…"

"Oh yeah," it was getting difficult for him to control himself, with trying to convince her and maintain the eye contact. He was affecting himself with his persuasion, Jet knew, and he had to make sure she was fully under, and soon. He had to finish within a day of starting, or risk repeating everything at the next full moon. The ritual was almost forgotten in modern times, but someone like him, who'd lived for so long and so closely tied to nature, knew it by instinct. The mating ritual, the urge to reproduce, to raise offspring. Wolves mated for life.

And the werewolf had finally found his mate.

His breath was coming harsher, thicker as he brought his forehead to hers. Pure, brilliant gold orbs focused on her blue ones with the force of intent behind them.

"You begged me for it, Katara."

"I begged you…"

"You took me in and called my name louder than you ever have before."

"I did…"

"You said you needed me, and loved me."

"I did…"

"You fucked me so hard. You said yes when I asked you to be my wife."

"I… did…"

"You want a family with me. You love me. You want my baby. You want me to take you every night."

"I do…"

"What did you just say, baby?" Oh spirits, he could hardly hold himself back. Too eager, he'd taken her breasts in his hands, fingers eagerly creeping under her shirt and massaging them under her bra and tweaking their erect nipples with his calloused, rough thumbs. He just wanted to take them in his mouth, pull up her skirt and take her right there on the counter. His penis was throbbing against the tight confines of his jeans, and he could smell her reacting to him, responding to his dirty talk like a Pavlovian test subject. Without warning, his hand slipped under her waistband, popping the button open while the zipper slid down, his fingers easing into her welcoming warm folds. He grunted with pure male appreciation, his fingers commencing a stimulating rhythm. His little gift of persuasion was a wonderful, wonderful thing, he decided as he waited for his partner to speak over her heated breathing.

And when she replied, he nearly lost his control.

"I do."

A winning smile broke out over Jet's face.

"Oh Katara, I'm gonna make you the happiest woman on Earth!" He was grinning so hard, and he was so aroused he could feel his pheromones pumping wildly through him, indicating he was more than ready to mate with his fiancee.

"Tell me you want me."

"I want you."

Her eyes had dimmed so significantly as the blurriness clouded them that they would have appeared lifeless had she not been speaking; but it was exactly what Jet had intended. He had her completely mesmerized.

"Tell me you need me."

"I need you." Her voice was dull.

"Tell me to take you right here on your parents' counter."

"Right here, I want it, you, now. Inside me."

"Oh baby-."

Finally he broke eye contact and gave a hoarse cry.

Reaching down, he undid his belt buckle and zipper in the blink of an eye, freeing himself.

Katara's clothing was shoved out of the way, her lower garments dropping to the floor and her shirt pushed over her shoulders.

The kitchen was then filled with grunts and gasps as the werewolf lost himself in his carnal pleasure, burying himself in his lover.

He praised Katara and her body long into the night, never letting up.

Across her body he bit her lightly, many times, marking his territory.

Over and over he spent himself in her, heard her moan his name and cry out in ecstasy as he instructed her to, eventually carried her limp, used body upstairs to sleep in his bed with him.

It was only the beginning, but to him, it was the greatest victory.

And now, he could look forward to having her by his side forever.

A loud, satisfied howl broke over the village that night, and carried for miles with its message.

* * *

Zuko's heart seized as he felt the bond zinging with painfully splintering sparks. Something was happening to Katara again, but he couldn't grasp what. The uncertainty was infuriating. And worrisome.

He'd managed to connect with her several times in her dreams, recently, to make sure she was handling the memory-erasure safely; but he was sure now that something, or someone, was tampering with her emotions and triggering her bad dreams. She was under some kind of outside stress or mental assault; it was the only thing he could think of. The distance made the bond tremulous at best, but he was sure something was up. She was in danger.

But Jet had promised to look after her, hadn't he?

And Zuko knew Jet loved Katara; it was obvious, as much as it pained him to admit it.

But…

Growling deep in his chest, Zuko pushed the heels of his palms against his eyelids until he saw colours swirling.

He'd promised he'd step back until he got control of himself.

But whenever he meditated, all he could think of was her.

What she was doing.

How she was feeling.

What she was thinking…

… who she was thinking of…

And when he caught her thinking of him, or at least, that's what it felt like, he couldn't help reaching for her through the bond. It was always at night, as if it was an unconscious searching on her part to find him, any way she could. The way he had searched for her, for decades, over a century and a half. Every night.

Something was wrong.

Something was so very, very wrong.

But these feelings, like something was physically shearing apart their bond—it was unnatural. It felt like she was obviously struggling and trying to reach out for help, but so erratically…like she had no control over her situation.

…She didn't have control over what was happening.

The realization hit him with the force of a tsunami.

It was against her will.

But what? Who?...

The only person who knew where she was was-

It crashed against him, like a wave of concrete.

_Jet._

Everything fell into place.

The vampire prince wanted to destroy something.

But who could he contact to check about Katara's condition, without calling her directly? He had no way to reach her-!

The blind maiden sprang to his mind immediately.

_Of cour__se… she's in tune with her, too._

Tired of feeling so impotent, Zuko leapt up from the ground and stalked to the suite's office, where he'd left his phone.

* * *

**TBC**.

AN: Updated June 3 or 4th, 2010.


	36. Chapter 36

**Merits 36**

.  


Zuko glanced down at his phone's text-screen and rubbed a hand over his tired face, pulling his long bangs away from his eyes.

All it said was, _Tonight_, and the address of the Bei Fong compound.

He ignored the stewardess as he slumped against the plane's window.

_Just a few more hours…_

* * *

"Miss Kuruk?"

"Speaking, how can I help you?"

"I represent Master Pakku."

"You have my sincerest condolences."

From the phone's receiver came the sound of chuckles muffled by coughing.

"Yes, thank you, I appreciate the sentiment. However, I understand you are interested in meeting with my employer and wish to make an appointment regarding his historical research involving the Water Tribes, is that correct?"

Katara tried to swallow, her stomach lodged in her throat.

"Miss Kuruk?"

"…Yes…"

"I'll assume I heard a 'yes', as your voice was quite faint. Well, Master Pakku has agreed to an appointment with you this afternoon, at his residence in North Woods around lunch time. Is this convenient with you?"

"You bet your-! I mean, yes that would be wonderful. Thank you very much."

"It is my pleasure, Miss Kuruk. Master Pakku also noted you are welcome to invite a companion, if it would make you feel more comfortable."

"Really?"

"Ah yes, really."

(…)

"Miss Kuruk? Do you have any questions I can answer?"

"No… No, that's… that's just wonderful. Thank you very much!"

"Again, a pleasure. Have a good visit."

She didn't miss the faint sarcasm on his last words.

* * *

The crack was still quiet noticeable, Katara thought to herself as she and Jet stood on the doorstep at eleven fifty-five that morning.

"Want me to knock?"

"I'd prefer if you'd drop-dead, but no, I can do it myself."

"It's cold. Anytime, Katara."

"It isn't lunch time yet."

Her companion blew out a long, low breath, but didn't say anything further.

They'd stood there for a good ten minutes already.

In the biting cold.

So what if his bits were about to fall off?

He buried his head a bit further into his collar and kept quiet. She'd been 'off' since that morning, and he wasn't about to irritate her further.

"If you're going to fight, you can fight in here where it's warmer," called an irritated voice from inside the house.

Katara stiffened, but Jet surged forward, one foot already inside.

"Hi, I'm Jet, pleased to meet you, sir. Would you mind if I made us all some coffee? And lunch?..."

The old man sent a still-shocked Katara a clearly unimpressed look, before he turned back to Jet and nodded with a passive-aggressive mutter or two.

Eyebrows furrowing in annoyance, Katara determinedly stepped inside.

* * *

When Katara had finished preparing the soup, slicing the bread, setting the table, and pouring water for them all, Master Pakku settled his elbows on the table and watched her while his chin rested on his folded hands.

She tried to suppress her temper as she suffered the scrutiny.

"Why are you standing all the way over there? We're ready to eat," he said blithely.

_Spirits, please give me patience,_ she prayed as she took her seat.

Surprisingly, apart from the rather chauvinistic attitude and comments (which she'd expected), Master Pakku was quite knowledgeable. The concerns Katara had had prior to arriving – that he'd not taken the time to actually research his stories, that he'd embellished the more important details, that he'd manufactured certain parts of his stories in order to make them more entertaining – were proven false, and the depth of his understanding of their tribe and its history was so rich it rivaled, if not surpassed, that of the Elders she and Jet had visited earlier on. It hadn't taken long for Katara to dig out her digital recorder and notebook, to make sure she didn't miss any of the details her lecturer bestowed upon her. Fortunately, his ego was stroked by this gesture instead of insulted, so he made no comment on the technology's intrusion.

Within a few minutes of the interview's commencement, the young woman completely forgot Jet was there, though he was thoughtful enough to refill their tea and coffee, and washed the dishes while she and Pakku spoke. He was never far, but he made himself as invisible as he could, for her sake… mostly.

For his part, the storyteller was rather enthusiastic in some of his recounting, and never failed to keep her attention. His manner, his retelling of certain events, was so realistic Katara almost felt like she'd been living them herself, or at the least that he'd lived through them himself, over a century and a half earlier. Some of the details felt almost uncanny.

Though she knew it was impossible, in the back of her mind something niggled at her consciousness telling her she'd met him before, though she couldn't place it, or him, in her memory.

As night fell, the discussion moved to the living room, and Katara returned to the kitchen—not quite as begrudgingly as before—to prepare their supper. That left Jet and Pakku together in the rustic setting, without their censor.

Pakku's self-indulgent expression settled on his young-looking counterpart thoughtfully.

"So, I hear you're the young man everyone's talking about," remarked the grey-haired man as he leaned back in his worn, old, hand-carved rocker. "And is it true that congratulations are in order?..."

Jet grinned, but didn't reply for a moment; he hadn't lived as long as he had without learning a few lessons. One of which being to watch your back when you're seen as being young and inexperienced…

"Congratulations for what, sir?"

Pakku's intelligent eyes narrowed slightly, though he maintained his cocky smile. "Oh, many, many things, if rumours serve to tell."

"I'm not one for rumours, Master Pakku—is there anything I should be worried about?" he joked in his usual laid-back fashion. "I hope I'm not in trouble."

"Perhaps it is just an old man hearing things, then. I thought there was a new howl about town these past few days… and perhaps a territorial skirmish or two, on top of an alpha's mating call. None of which we've had around here for a long, long time. I just thought it was a strange coincidence that it all matched up with you and Katara coming to visit."

The man's cold, faded blue eyes watched him carefully, and Jet knew, somehow, that this man was more than he appeared to be—and he knew that he himself was more than he appeared to be, too. Which gave their interaction a subtly dangerous overtone he wasn't oblivious to.

"Well, I have proposed to Katara, and she has accepted," Jet confessed, strategically, to test the water. "So yes, that rumour is true. We're making plans to return and settle in the tribe as soon as her current school term finishes. I'll be looking for work come summer, and hopefully we'll be able to get Katara set up with her own practice. If things work out well, maybe the Tribe can sponsor a few of its members to take their nursing certification? So that Katara will be able to tend to more patients with the trained assistants she'll need? But that's for future planning. What do you think?"

"I think you're up to something."

"Oh, well I'm sorry to hear that, sir. I've been doing my best to pave the way for a happy homecoming for Katara."

"Perhaps I have misunderstood, then. Rumours can be so misleading. I'd heard that you were 'paving the way' to make _your_ entry into the tribe smoother, not hers. Again, rumours. One should never put too much faith in them, you're right."

"I appreciate that, sir." Jet watched the man across from him a moment, and they sized each other up. "Would you mind answering a question for me, sir?"

"If I can."

"If Katara's father is absent, whose permission should I ask in order to receive a blessing to marry her?"

"An Elder, a trusted family friend, or someone with high regard amongst the tribe, hypothetically speaking, of course. I'm sure Katara would be able to answer your question, if she's truly agreed to marry you," hedged Pakku, his gaze never leaving Jet's.

"I was hoping to make it a surprise."

"Ah…"

"Is there something I'm missing, sir? Have I offended you? It wasn't my intention. I'd like to apologise if I have."

"Oh no, not at all. It's just that a man would need to prove himself to the person whose permission he sought, and prove his commitment to the tribe, since he would be an outsider to the tribe. What would that individual be giving to the tribe that would make it stronger, more successful, more prosperous?"

There was a weighted pause, as the challenge sank in.

"What would you be bringing, Jet?"

Well, that was surprisingly blatant.

"Would you mind if I ask a few questions before I answered that, to make sure I understand the tribe and its traditions, sir?"

Looking amused now, Pakku nodded. "Of course."

"When I lived within a tribe, some time ago, there was still an element of… magic." He looked meaningfully at the historian, whose expression remained neutral. "The tribe itself had magic, and that magic extended over the tribe to protect it from external intrusion and interference. It received magic by protecting the land, living in balance with nature, and sharing with its neighbouring tribes… but they had to remain healthy and strong themselves. If the tribe started to dwindle in numbers, the strength of the magic would dwindle with it."

Pakku nodded once in agreement, and expanded upon Jet's theory.

"One reason that the magic has dwindled in our northern tribes is that starting with Katara's generation, the babies were no longer born within the tribe's boundaries. The expecting women moved to the larger cities with hospitals to give birth with doctors and other medical professionals present. The magic and power these births used to bring to the tribe was lost, and so the tribe was left supporting these young families with less and less magic, fewer spiritual resources to expend on them and bless them with. It has truly hurt the tribe."

"Is this why you had hoped Katara would become a midwife, instead of an addiction specialist? So that she would be able to support the women of the tribe, and help the tribe regain some of its 'magic' or 'power' losses?"

"In part, yes."

"Mind if I ask what the other part is?"

The sounds of Katara making supper in the kitchen, pans on the stove, water running, and the smell of the meat and vegetables wafted over to the two men.

Satisfied the woman in question would be occupied a bit longer, Pakku nodded slightly to himself.

"Katara herself needs to come back."

"May I ask why?"

Pakku's smile and 'jovial' demeanour faded so smoothly to seriousness that Jet felt his insides twist; Pakku knew.

"Because she is needed here," he stated meaningfully. "_Her_ children need to be born here, or the tribe will die by its next generation."

"That's a fair bit of pressure on a single woman, sir… Is it because she's the Chief's daughter? The 'leading by example' lifestyle she needs to encourage her fellow tribeswomen to follow?"

Pakku stared at him hard.

Jet didn't back down, and didn't bother to keep up his amiable front any longer.

"I feel like you already know why it is important she returns to us, as soon as she can," said the old man softly. "And she needs to have children as soon as she can, in order to protect this tribe."

"Any reason why it needs to be so soon?"

"Young man, you are asking many, many questions, and I think you already know the answers to many of them…"

A tense silence fell between them.

They both knew why.

Something big, and dark, and dangerous could be felt on its fringes. The tribe was being hunted.

Again.

The demons were coming back.

"Would you give your blessing if you knew she was already expecting? If she was already making plans to return within the next 3 months? Sir?" asked the older of the two men.

"This is an entirely hypothetical conversation, Jet." Pakku leaned forward and spoke even more softly in his gravelly voice, hearing Katara's mumblings in the kitchen as she dished out the meals onto the kitchen table. "Isn't it?"

"Dinner'll be ready in 5 minutes you two!" Katara poked her head through from the kitchen for a moment to get their attention. They perked their heads up politely in her direction. "And Master Pakku, I have a few more questions, if that's ok?"

"Of course, Katara," he said in a long-suffering tone—though his expression had softened considerably since she'd arrived that morning. Jet was tempted to hazard it akin to 'grandfatherly', except when it was turned on him.

Which it was, as soon as Katara ducked back into the kitchen again.

"Young man," began Pakku in a cold, warning tone, once more. "I hope you aren't insinuating what I think you are about our Chief's daughter. Engaged or not, you are not married yet."

"All we need is your blessing, sir."

Pakku's expression turned frosty, and hard.

"Is that blackmail, young man?"

"Like you, sir, I'm only looking out for Katara and the tribe."

"Once again, I question your motives and whether they are in anyone's interests but your own, Jet-."

"Supper's ready! Come on over Master Pakku, Jet, I have lots here!"

Still eyeing one another in distrust, the men rose as one and made their way to the kitchen.

* * *

Katara dried the lash dish, passed it to Jet, and stretched her back as she turned to smile ruefully at her lecturer.

"Done."

"Katara, I must say, you outdid yourself in the kitchen today. Thank you very much, I haven't eaten that well in ages."

"You're very welcome, Master Pakku. Thank you for taking the time to speak to me. And, uh, about the door…"

He glared at her a moment.

"Yes, the door."

"If you can just give me a few months, until I finish up and school and move back, I promise I'll be able to replace it this summer."

He watched her a moment, his thoughts hidden from her.

"Well," he began slowly, and didn't miss the way she writhed in discomfort a moment under his sharp gaze. "We'll see. I'll speak to someone in the morning, to see if he can rig something up to at least staunch the drafts. My old bones can't handle the cold the way they used to, you know."

"How about I call Bato tonight, and we'll see if we can make it out tomorrow to fix that up for you?" she offered in a weak, but optimistic voice. "And then I'll replace the door… this summer?"

"That would be acceptable."

Her shoulders sagged in relief when he turned to lead them out. At her side, Jet remained silent, thoughtful.

As the small group gathered their things and shuffled to the front door, they passed through the entranceway again and Katara's eyes swept the small anteroom with new appreciation. The entire house was full of antiques, all meticulously well cared for; the more she looked around, the more she noticed the 'little' details – like the fact that the pictures on the wall weren't from the early twentieth-century, they were from the mid-nineteeth… the artwork wasn't reproduced, it was original, as were the handicrafts and weavings and ceremonial accoutrements… and the maps that hung in their protective glass frames weren't modern—at least not in this small room. They were old, some as much as two hundred and fifty years old.

Katara's eyes fell once more on the maps.

And her footsteps slowed to a halt.

Something inside her, very deep, stirred.

Instinctively, she felt her eyes reading the terrain and finding errors; though she didn't know how she knew the maps were wrong, she knew they were.

Something in her spirit whispered the answer in her ear, but it was too muffled to make out.

Frustrated she didn't understand, Katara stared at the map.

She pointed.

"This map… it's of the tribe's territory, isn't it?"

"Yes, though unfortunately we've lost most of that land. This map is over a hundred and fifty years old. I'm surprised you recognized it."

"The water-ways are wrong," she remarked, stepping closer and letting her finger hover over the glass where the river now ran. On the yellowed, faded map, however, the river ran in a different direction, and the lake wasn't there at all.

Pakku stood beside her and watched her, waiting to see if she made the connection.

Katara felt her head pound as the blood gradually started to rush in her veins.

She was close.

So close.

What was wrong?

She closed her eyes a moment when her vision blurred, and opened them again.

"Why is the water _wrong?"_

From behind her, Jet inched closer, suspicious. Something about her voice was off.

Her voice.

The hair on the back of his neck raised in apprehension.

He recognized when it took on that dream-like character.

"You know why it is wrong, Katara," said Pakku persuasively, softly. He watched her every move, her every expression. "Think. _Remember_."

"I think Katara's getting tired," began Jet, trying to break the trance Katara was falling into. "We should really get on the road…"

"Not yet…" she said quickly. Her finger traced a line on the map, where she 'felt' the water should have run. "This map… the water… why is it wrong? Water doesn't shift this much by accident, does it? It would have had to have been a man-made canal or something that would change the entire direction of a river… Why…?"

The pull inside her became stronger, forcing her to block out the sounds around her, to focus on nothing but the map, the water, the reason it had shifted so drastically.

"Remember," whispered Pakku, close to her ear, so close Jet couldn't hear his exact words. "Remember the battle. Yue, your people need you. _Remember_."

Katara's head pounded harder, the words suddenly pulling taut a cord she'd forgotten existed.

A cord someone else had tried to sever.

A cord that connected her to her past.

"_Remember_."

To something else, from her past…

To someone else, from her past.

The pain started in her temples and spread, rapidly, and before she knew it, it had engulfed her mind.

"Katara?... Katara, are you ok?..."

A man's voice.

"What is going on? She was fine a minute ago—what did you say to her, old man!"

A young-sounding voice, but there was something else behind that voice, something older, stronger.

"I did nothing, merely pointed out on the map that this is the territory our tribe used to live on. Here is where they used to spend their summers—."

_A pair of pale hands around her waist, holding her to him, bare chest to bare chest-._

"That we used to spend our winters camped here, beyond this small forest-."

_Where he first came to her, wounded, with a sledge of animal pelts and food for her people…_

"And that the story she's been focusing on ended here, near this bend in the river, where Yue tragically fell in battle protecting her tribesmen."

_And the water rose, the river changed course, the spirit of the moon and water pulled the river and it came to wash her away and purify the land when she died._

_She had died._

She had died.

Katara-Yue felt her memories flooding back to her in flashes and torrents, too fast to understand, overwhelming her.

"You're right, she does look a bit peaked. Perhaps she should return home for the night. It's been a busy day."

"If she were conscious, I'm sure she'd thank you," Jet's angry voice cut through the deluge of sights, sounds, images, feelings that inundated Katara, and she felt herself being lifted up from her slumped place on the ground. She hadn't realized she'd fallen down.

"I don't know what you did, old man, but she better be ok."

"She will be fine… and didn't you mention earlier she may be… in a delicate condition? Perhaps this is a manifestation of that stress on her body?"

Jet paused, and Katara thought she felt some of his tension ease, but she couldn't be sure; nothing was making sense.

_What delicate condition?_

_What were they talking about?_

What was going on?

Where was her tent?

Wait, no, she lived in a house, didn't she?

But she was still with her tribe, so her tent with her offerings and sleeping furs should be nearby, shouldn't it?

The conflicting thoughts raced and collided in her head, and Katara moaned at the physical pain that accompanied them.

_Remember…._

Remember what? Remember who?

Who could help her?

There was someone she needed, someone who felt like part of her.

Someone who should be with her, always.

She barely noticed the sounds of booted feet crunching through snow, or the door creaking open in front of her.

_Where was he?__  
_  
She murmured something unintelligible, and Jet brought her mouth closer to his ear as he slid over in the driver's seat. The trudge from porch to vehicle had been bitter as the temperature had dropped further, the weather taking a turn for the worse.

Small whorls of snow ripped around them, tearing at their clothes and biting their skin. Katara didn't feel any of it.

As he slammed the door shut, Jet felt his insides tightening. This was no ordinary storm. Something, someone, was causing it.

And the timing… Why now?

Beside him, Katara muttered something familiar, though Jet couldn't place it.

"What is it, Katara?"

She murmured again, but he still couldn't make it out.

As Jet started the engine, Pakku stood on his porch wrapped in his jacket, and watched them with a smile, his eyelids low over his knowing eyes.

"Katara, honey, what's wrong? Are you sick? What happened?" Jet's voice turned anxious, and he realized how serious the situation could become. He laid a hand on Katara's head and felt her burning up, and desperately wondered what to do. They were hours away from the nearest hospital… and he had no idea where it was. Katara had only mentioned in passing that their tribe relied on local first-aid providers since the hospital was so far.

And he had no idea who he could ask for directions to get there—because he certainly didn't trust the smug old bastard on the porch. HE was the one with the agenda.

Jet's concern over Katara's safety reared again: Did he risk taking her on the road at night, in a place he barely knew, to a hospital or medical facility he'd never been to?

As he sped down the icy road towards Katara's family home, Jet felt the old vehicle protesting at his rough handling. The night was black, the wind was howling, and a storm had erupted, seemingly out of nowhere.

"What the hell," the 'were muttered, glancing down at Katara's unconscious body beside him. "The weather was supposed to be clear. Since when do storms like this roll in so quickly up here?"

As the car careened around a corner, the tires slipped, at first just a split-second, then gripped again, then at Jet's angry kick to the accelerator pedal, slid once more, sending the car into a fish-tail slide across the road into the opposite lane.

Jet cursed and fought the wheel, desperate to right them even as he saw the lights coming from the opposite direction.

He swore again.

* * *

The heavy doors were sealed, both by conventional lock and also by magic. The wind whipped the unnatural storm outside into a frenzy; the entire mansion shook on its foundations at times, and yet the two shamans who sat knee to knee in their lotus positions, facing each other, did not stir.

They'd been focusing for over an hour, and the outdoor conditions mirrored their internal states.

Unfortunately.

And sitting knee to knee with them was their link.

Even he was starting to show signs of wear.

In the hallway outside the room, Sokka, Aang and Suki glanced up as another gust rocked the building on its foundations.

Aang, who fully understood the severity of the conditions and had some idea of what had prompted them, felt his concern rise, his emotions heavy.

Sokka, still learning the meaning and causes behind the phenomena, complained occasionally about not being allowed to participate in the 'seeing', but held his peace with Suki by his side. Suki said nothing at all, a hard, knowing frown on her face through the entire ritual. She had met Aang's eyes once, seen the same understanding in his, and they had mutually decided to keep quiet until they had more details to work with.

It had shocked them all when Jun had shown up on their doorstep.

But even moreso had been the unannounced arrival of Zuko Sozin, who'd been immediately ushered into the private room where Toph and Jun awaited him.

Then, the storm had built outside.

Another quarter of an hour of agonizing uncertainty passed before the blizzard outside slowly quieted, the door latches clicked to indicate they'd been unlocked. Sokka flung them open…

… to find Toph unconscious on the floor, and her Mother, Jun, staggering to her feet, wearily heaving the petite young woman over her shoulder, and pushing past them all to return her wiped apprentice to her rooms to recuperate.

Shock and concern marked the small group's face as the witches passed.

It was soon replaced with the leaden tang of fear.

No one knew what to say.

But one thing was clear.

If Toph Almighty was down for the count… where did it leave them?

None approached the room. Almost like children afraid of a superstition that would befall them if they entered, they stayed away.

But inside, alone, unmoved from his own lotus position, Zuko's head bowed low, his chin meeting his chest with his eyes closed. Then, slowly, his shoulders slumped and he was nothing more than a man beaten, his hands rising to cover his face in defeat.

* * *

**TBC**

AN: Posted 14 August 2010.


	37. Chapter 37

**Merits 37**

He'd wandered the halls when he finally woke, and followed the trail of their voices to find the rest of the group sitting around a large breakfast table.

-or, that's what it sounded like, at least. He hadn't set foot inside. Yet.

Unsure if he should trespass upon their family meal, he waited, debating whether or not he should simply leave the compound and return to his own home.

Brow furrowed, Zuko glared self-consciously at the door.

But suddenly found himself thrust through the doorway with a massive _shove_ to his back, and nearly lost his footing as he tumbled ahead of his manhandler.

"If I have to sit through this, so do you," Toph hissed through her teeth just loud enough for him to hear, a wide smile on her face as she strode through behind him. Then, in a louder voice, "Rise and shine, Sparky! What're ya havin'?"

"Um, that is, uh, I was just-."

"Eggs & bacon are on the left, fruit's in the middle, pancakes are on the right, and the syrup's probably all over Sokka's sleeve by now," Toph's authoritative voice rang out as she pushed the reluctant vampire further into the room towards the spread. When his feet dragged, she zapped him and couldn't help smirking at the wounded yelp he tried to suppress.

"Hey, it is not!" Sokka yelled indignantly around a mouthful of bacon. And sausages. And sea-cucumber quiche.

"Uh, Sokka,…" Suki started in hushed, diplomatic tones, "maybe you should roll them up a bit…"

"No need! This bathrobe is big and manly and these sleeves are a sign of my-."

"Want me to do it for you so you don't have to put down your fork?"

"Yes, please."

"Psht, all men are babies," snorted the hostess, taking up a seat. She turned back to Zuko, who still stood apart from them.

He looked on at them, painfully unsure of his place.

"Oh for Pete's sake," she muttered under her breath. And with that she brought her hands together in a single, loud clap that broke the air – and sent a minor earthquake along the floor, which suddenly rippled and launched Zuko into the seat across from her.

A tap of her foot bumped him snugly up to the table.

"Now eat before you offend my sensitive hospitality," she snapped at him, croissant crumbs flying from her mouth.

"Yes, ma'am," he stammered, and reached for a glass of water.

Conversation around the table resumed, and Aang broke the ice with Zuko by offering to share his pomelo with him.

"Hmph," was all Toph replied, but inside she felt relief.

It was a start.

**TBC.**

* * *

This chapter posted Dec 10, 2010.  
Yes, I am working on a chapter for your for Christmas. Please forgive me my delays.


	38. Chapter 38

**Merits 38**

"Hi, can I get either of you something to drink?"  
"Sure, two coffees, please-."  
"Tea for me, actually."  
Jet froze a moment, maintaining his casual smile at the stewardess. "My mistake. Coffee for me, please, and a tea for-."

"Milk and two sugars, please. Thank you," Katara reached across her ex's lap and accepted the steaming beverage gratefully.

"Thanks," he said, and the stewardess, sensing the tension between the pair of attractive young people, smiled vapidly and moved on hastily to the next row of seats.

Jet blew lowly from his nose in anger, while Katara continued writing in her notebook, a few of Master Pakku's texts (on loan to her) piled on the seat between herself and Jet.

"You're ignoring me now? Is that it?"

"I have work to do, Jet. I'm already behind," _because of you_, went unspoken, but was evident from her tone. Her eyes and pen never strayed from the page before her.

"We can still talk. I can help you with-."  
"No, thank you."  
"Later, I mean. When you finish your-."  
This time she raised her eyes to look at him, and their ice-blue depths were cold and hard.

"No, Jet. There is no talking. No apologizing."

_We're through_, her look clearly emphasized, and she glared at him momentarily longer before slowly turning back to work with renewed focus.

And her very deliberate action made him see red.

For a moment, Jet nearly thought he'd finally lose his temper with her, once and for all.

_Couldn't she see? Didn't she __**understand**__? _He railed internally, the fury boiling higher as it choked him. _Everything he'd done, he'd done for Katara! He'd protected her from those chauvinistic males in her hometown, instilled a sense of respect in them so they respected her in return, promised to provide for her and the family they would build together, and this was how she treated him? After everything he'd done!_

He seethed in recollection.

_And who did she think of? Who did she want? Who had she thanked?_

_Not him, but-_

The reminder of whose name she had murmured earlier in her delirium at the hospital nearly made him snap.

_Ungrateful bitch!_

The force of the epithet shook him inside, and he felt his jaw clenching tightly, his canines lengthening as the urge to shift and destroy something, anything, especially anything of value to her, nearly overwhelmed him there on the plane, 35, 000 feet in the air. She was his mate, his chosen one. She would never belong to another ever again, he swore it.

He would do anything to prevent it, too.

_Calm down, calm down, _his internal voice soothed, _there's still time._

Reflecting on what was still to come, he knew it was true.

There was still time.

So for now, he would just wait. She would come around soon enough.

_Yes,_ he thought to himself, sipping his too-hot coffee, _soon enough._

Beside him, Katara wrote on, completely unaware of her companion's conspiracy.

* * *

"You are always welcome back here, Katara," said Bato. The tall, rangy man swept her up in a bear hug as if she were still a little girl. Desperate for comfort, for the feeling that reminded her so much of family, of home, she held on tight to him in return, burying her face in his chest. He smelled like snow, conifer trees and cooking scents, and she clung to that sense of being grounded, that reality. It helped clear her confusion, her doubts, her…  
Even as her senses were enveloped by the present, a half-remembered image flashed through her mind again—they kept coming at the most random times—_of a sledge of furs being drawn to her tent, someone holding out a hand to be healed-._

A part of her, deep inside, suddenly tugged at the memory. As if it were reaching out to find… something. The longing thrummed through her, as if she was missing something vitally important. As if a part of her was lost and trying to find its way home, back to where it belonged.

She shook her head to clear it.

"I miss you already, Bato."

"You take care of yourself on the trip home, ok?"

Katara's smile was faint, forced, and he watched her casually as she faked her emotions.  
He didn't miss the stress that lined her young face, the dark circles under her eyes. She must still be having her nightmares. Daydreams. He refused to call them hallucinations.

Something was keeping her up at night, still, and it was taking its toll. She wasn't the little girl he remembered anymore, had helped raise. She wouldn't confide in him anymore, and he couldn't make her. But at least he could let her know he would, if he could. If she needed family, he was there. He always would be.

"I will."  
He gave her a long, meaningful look. "I can see worry in your eyes, little one," he said gravely, quietly, for her ears only. "All you need to do is call."

Wavering slightly, she took a deep breath to steady her insides. "I know."

He nodded, and walked her back to where Jet was waiting in line for their security check at the airport departure gate.

"You take care, too, Bato."

He waited until they'd cleared security, passed the gate, and walked across the icy tarmac to climb the stairs that would lead inside the plane.

It was only once they'd taxied and taken off that he turned away from the large, floor-to-ceiling windows and found his gaze meeting that of a wily, ancient shaman.

"Master Pakku," he said respectfully, stretching out an arm in greeting.

"Bato, it's been some time. I hear you'll be coming to pay my door a visit soon."  
"Seems like."

Their conversation died, neither wanting to broach the topic first.

But Pakku could only be silent for so long.

"It wasn't him."

"No," agreed Bato. "But it is coming."  
"It is. And that boy, the wolf, is involved. But that wasn't The One I was expecting."

* * *

"We're going back tomorrow."  
"Where? To Master Pakku's?" Jet turned to look at her in confusion. "Are you sure you're ok to go back there, Katara? I really don't think-."  
"To Ba Sing Se," she said dully. "I re-arranged our flights. We can pack up tonight. The… Bato will take us in his truck, since we don't have a vehicle anymore."

Wariness spread across Jet's features as he watched Katara leaning against the doorframe; she was still having some trouble moving around, but refused to actually sit. Pride, stubborn, pig-headed, pride, he was sure that was all that was keeping her upright.

Little did he know.

"Ok," he said slowly.

"And Jet?"  
His eyes widened.

"I'll be staying at Bato's tonight."  
Jet stilled.

"And what about me?"  
"Do what you always do, Jet. Whatever you want. But I won't be part of it anymore."

His heart beat faster, harder, as anxiety at her insinuations set in.

"Katara, we can talk about-."  
"No, Jet. We can't. I… I don't want you to be part of my life anymore."  
"Katara, listen, we're just having a rough patch, we'll work things out. I know I've overstepped my bounds on a few things recently, but there's been so much going on-."  
"'Overstepped your bounds'?" Katara asked softly, her shoulders tightening as she straightened up in the doorway. Her eyes blazed. She took a step inside. "'Overstepped your bounds!'"

Her fists shook.

"You call assaulting me in my sleep, when I'm pharmaceutically sedated, with the intention of controlling me like a dog and ruining my fucking life, '_overstepping your bounds'!"_

Jet was raising his hands to calm her as he strode to her, but heard the sound of rapid footsteps ascending the stairs and paused.

"Katara, is everything ok?"

She swallowed hard and forced her fists back down by her sides.

"Yes, Bato. Sorry, I'll be down in a few minutes."

"I'll come help," he replied, obviously not trusting her trembling voice. His tone brooked no argument.

The two young people looked at each other a moment longer, until they heard Bato crest the stairs and turn their way.

"It's over, Jet," Katara said quietly, and turned away.

"It's over."

Her feelings shimmered along the tight spiritual cord that resonated within her; and it reciprocated, like a warm, strong arm around her shoulders.

* * *

They waited together, both in wheelchairs, at the front entrance lobby of the small hospital, as Bato pulled his truck around to meet them.

Patients, visitors, medics and a myriad of other employees milled around or walked straight past them; they pretended to ignore the two young adults, but whispers had been following Katara for days now. They knew who she was; and it didn't take a genius to figure out she hadn't come home for any form of happy reunion with her family. Her father hadn't even shown up at the hospital to see her, which spawned even more gossip. Still, she had smiled and cooperated—most of the time—with her attending physicians while she'd been admitted. Mostly. There was the occasional intern or orderly who'd deserved the cussing out she'd given them…

She had held up a convincing front, for the most part—but she was sure there were at least a few nurses, those who'd been her friends or friends of her family since she was young, who could still read her well enough to know that all was not well on the home front, in particular with her self-appointed 'fiancé'.

That gossip could be heard in bits and pieces as she and Jet waited, side by side, for Bato; Jet with his hand outstretched from the arm of his wheelchair to hers; she with her hands tucked neatly in her lap.

When Bato finally arrived to help them outside, the air that hit them as they exited the hospital was wickedly cold, and sharp. It was a quiet ride home.

* * *

_Spirits alive, not that stupid story again,_ Katara thought to herself as she roused slowly from her sleep. Was it the third time that day she'd heard it? Fourth? Four _hundredth_? It felt like it.

Inside her, she felt a tightening of the cord, and she wondered again if it was a reflection of her own feelings, or someone else's reaction to them. It fed her seething, at any rate.

"—yeah, we were really lucky the lights on the truck caught the paramedics' attention," Jet recounted to the nurse who was supposed to be checking her vitals. The uniformed woman seemed quite content to gaze, enraptured, at Jet's face as he earnestly relayed the details of their 'horrific accident'. Not that Katara remembered all the details herself, but she could probably re-tell Jet's version—with his exact words and intonation—by memory at this point.

_Ass, _she thought to herself, and fought the urge to roll her eyes. Fought it hard.

"Well, to hear the ambulance techs tell it, you'd think that there was some kind of miracle!" gushed the nurse. Katara was pretty sure her name was Sandy. Or Cindy. Nancy?...

"That the northern lights were so bright above us, they led the way, huh?"

_Oh, he's rolling it on thicker than marzipan for this nurse, _she thought to herself. Was her name Candy?

Her 'connection' thrummed inside her, and Katara gave a mental nod in thanks to the… presence's confirmation.

"And to think your engine was still running enough to power the batteries for the headlights, oh, it was just something! The firemen who pulled you two from the water were amazed; they thought you'd been underwater for some time. No vitals at all, they said."

She could hear the blasé smirk in Jet's voice when he replied, "Well, we're made of pretty tough stuff. It'd take more than that to stop us. We're recently engaged, and we've started making plans to return to the Rez to settle down, actually, this summer…"

Katara glared outright at the pair chatting just off the end of her bed, _("Oh, that's wonderful! How romantic!"_ exclaimed the nurse, and her shrill tone stabbed at Katara's eardrums) but neither noticed the actual _patient_ in the room.

-until she threw her bedpan at them and declared she really needed to take a shit, because something wasn't sitting well with her.

It was most likely the pity and attention Jet was currying with the staff who were supposed to be taking care of her. (Not that she needed much attention at this point, mostly just observation to err on the side of caution, but it was a matter of principle.) With that, she threw her legs over the side of her bed and made for the small door that led to the only privacy she had.

"Is everything ok?" Jet asked her when she eventually hobbled out of the washroom.

"Just peachy," she muttered. "Are my books here?"

"Of course not, you're supposed to be resting-."  
"Why are you here?"

Jet stared at her, confused.

"Why are you here?" she repeated, irritated.

Uncrossing his arms slowly, Jet watched her carefully. "I'm here with you because I love you, Katara. Proposal, spending our lives together. Marriage, family. That whole 'deal'. Remember?"

She scoffed.

His brow furrowed, visibly hurt by her dismissal. "Katara, what-."

"Get out." She lay back down on her side, her back to him. "I have nothing to say to you."

"What has gotten into you?"

She ignored him, and he stepped closer to her bed.

"Katara."

Her back offered no answers, and he pressed on, feeling some irritation himself at her behaviour and lack of explanation.

"Katara," he demanded, more firmly, and her back twitched.

"I know what you did. I remember, and I know what you did."

Her voice was hollow, but there was more understanding in it than he'd ever heard in her words before. Not a pleasant kind of understanding, but rather a thorough, complete, dark comprehension of exactly what he'd been trying to do.

Her spirit was dark, and roiled around the cord; and it was faint, but there was a reflection of feeling along it that she held out for, that she needed. It came, and it felt like acceptance. She may still feel ashamed of herself, but the strange connection that now seemed to be part of her didn't judge her, didn't make her feel like a victim. It made her feel strong, like she would pull through as long as she held herself together. And it would help, wrapping itself around her again like a protective shield.

Jet watched her carefully, realization dawning.

She knew.

She knew what he was.

She knew what he'd done to her.

She wasn't supposed to remember, but she did.

Jet felt the air leave him, his gut cave in as if he'd been punched. Quickly he shut the door to keep out the prying eyes and ears of the nursing staff.

"I can explain-."  
"Get. Out."

"Katara-!"

"I said get out of here, Jet! I never want to see you again!"

"I was going to tell you, I swear," he pleaded now, his voice tight, choked with emotion at the realizations that _she knew_. He had no idea how, other than perhaps it had to do with the accident, but she did. And hell if he wasn't absolutely screwed right now because of it. This was not supposed to have come to light—not now, at least. "I've always been what I am, and I had planned on telling you—while we were here, actually, it's just that I didn't want to bother you while you had your school work and your family stuff, and-."

"You just needed to rape me and bind me to you, first?"

"I need you, Katara, and it wasn't right, but I was worried if I didn't-."  
"What, Jet?"

"…"  
"What would happen if you didn't coerce me into…?"  
A very pregnant pause, before Jet replied with his worst fear.

"… you… you might leave me."  
She laughed darkly.

"Backfire, Jet."

The cord tightened almost possessively around her, and she tugged back in recognition. Someone or something was with her, supporting her.  
She would make it.

* * *

"Ms. Kuruk, we need you to cooperate," sighed the radiologist over the intercom

"I am cooperating," _you're just being an ass, _her tone implied.  
"I apologise if I am making you uncomfortable, but I am required to ask these questions. Now, is there any chance you could be pregnant? It's a standard question."

It didn't help that he was right, and she knew it.

"No," she lied, and her fist clenched tightly. She was alone in the room, no one but the tech would have heard her if she'd spoken the truth, but she still had a hard time admitting it to herself. How had she let herself be so…

Her heart panged and her throat closed off a second, but with the next heartbeat came a reassuring presence that filled and relaxed her, like someone standing alongside her and holding her hand.

_It's going to be all right,_ it seemed to try to relay. She could almost physically feel the light touch of lips to her forehead, calming her. Which was impossible, in the claustrophobic confines of the tube.

Swallowing and trying not to think too much about the implications of her… hallucinations… visiting her while she was undergoing her CAT Scan, Katara let out a low breath and, for the first time, reached out herself, mentally, to the silvery, sentient line that seemed to connect her to something else.

_Thank you_, she breathed.

* * *

She may have woken from her coma, but she wasn't entirely free of it.

At night, she seemed to be more vulnerable to her memories, and to the things that had transpired while she was… unaware.

Certain memories more than others.

The feeling of warm arms holding her close, or of quiet, inspiring words, or complete trust and acceptance… Flashes of dark hair or pale skin on her own, or of thick woods and dark nights and hungers of all manner and kind.

Once or twice, she was sure she'd seen gold eyes, full lips, angular features, but the veil would always close over her again, preventing her from seeing everything. Even when she tried to remember the dream-memories later, they were withheld from her. They seemed… old… as if they'd happened so long ago they were fraying at the edges, incomplete. But they were part of her. She knew they were.

And some part of her confirmed they were true… just as much as it confirmed that she had once been someone else. And that she had existed in multiple realms or spheres, the natural and the supernatural, the living and the spiritual.

She was more than she realized.

And there were more creatures on earth than simple humans.

Her modern self had pushed this away at first, but something had brought them to the fore and rammed them sickeningly home.

There were also the memories of more recent events—things she was now sure had happened to her.

Been done to her.

-And by who.

Katara woke up crying through the night for days as more and more came back to her.

Of becoming dizzy and falling onto a bench on a walk home from the Bomber. Of some kind of explosion in her apartment; of being… sick? Drugged? Drunk? When Jet 'proposed' to her, and whisking her away from her friends and family on a flight. Isolating her from her circle of support.

At that, she'd been angry: at him for taking advantage of her, but mostly at herself for not seeing through it at the time. (Why had she been so distractible? Vulnerable? Impressionable? What had happened?...)

But the worst was remembering what Jet had done to her.

The mental, emotional, physical, sexual abuse.

There was no other word for it.

And… when she'd remembered his howling as he'd taken her from behind, bitten and marked her, mated with her, so many pieces slammed into place. Her 'old' self supplied the explanation when her 'modern' self balked at the signs.

He was… a wolf.

A werewolf.

And she'd been… He'd… Jet had tried to turn her. Turn her into a werewolf.

Own her.

Seal her.

Destroy her.

She threw up more than one morning, as each time, each dream—no, each memory—more filtered through to her.

She had never been so ashamed, humiliated, embarrassed.

_At least you're yourself again, now, _some voice or feeling tried to wiggle through her haze of indignity, to remind her she was neither defined by events that had happened around her, nor by assaults that had suffered. It was a male voice, she realized.

You are defined by your actions and reactions, by how you fight back, by how you never give up, and always strive to conquer that which challenges you.

I don't know if I can do this, though; she felt herself mentally crumbling.

You don't have to do it alone.

How?

For one thing, the Katara I know would have de-balled any man who ever treated her like he did.

Against all reason, she laughed at the logical voice in her head, her heart, her soul.

See? Where's the legendary, take-no-shit-or-prisoners, callous, vengeful bitch of a woman we all know you can be?

Her spirits brightening, Katara took a shine to the inner (outer?) voice which had popped into her dreams.

She is coming back. She is gathering her strength, she assured him and herself, and she is coming back.

Good… I've missed her.

Without even realizing it, Katara sighed happily and replied, _I've missed you, too._

And when she'd wake she could never remember who it was.

* * *

There it was again.

Katara left her eyes shut as she tried to open her senses up to the strange… feeling. It ebbed, flowed, and retreated.

Then ebbed, flowed, and retreated again.

It was… trying to get her attention?

Relaxing her breathing, she focused on the lingering pull that seemed to tug at her spirit. It was such a strange thing; she'd noticed it after the accident. More often than not, it felt like a cord that led away from her to… somewhere else. A connection. She hadn't been able to figure out where, yet. But she would. She knew she would. Somehow, someway, she knew this for certain. It was there for a reason, she just needed to uncover it.

It stretched outward from her, invisible; sometimes, it almost felt like a cloak that shrouded her. At other times it felt thin, frail; and occasionally it had nearly vibrated in its intensity.

Jet hadn't made any mention of it, so he hadn't noticed it, or any change in her; and she couldn't find any medical way to explain it. Though she had had it out with her nurses and attending physician when she'd first become aware of it.

"What do you mean you haven't run a CT Scan yet?"  
"There was no sign of serious trauma to the-."  
"Your definition of 'serious' and my definition of 'serious' are obviously divergent, Doctor," she snapped, reviewing her own chart under his resigned supervision. The doctor at her bedside chewed the inside of his cheek at her derisive tone. His expression veered very clearly towards, _Fantastic, a back-seat driver. _

"Now look at this, it says we were found without vitals – how long were we without vitals? We were underwater! Do I really need to explain to you what happens when a human being goes without oxygen? In _winter_? Under water! Brain death, hypothermia, sound familiar? Get me a CT Scan, a visual acuity assessment, and for spirit's sake some decent coffee. Also, I'll be needing the results back from my most recent blood tests."

"Anything else, doctor?" he asked blithely.

"Actually, yes," Katara looked him in the eye, her gaze assessing. "A tooth brush. Hospitality may have one."

"Yes, they may."  
She narrowed her eyes at him, and he threw his hands up in the air.

"All right, all right, we'll get you a tooth brush."

"And a CAT Scan!"

"_And_ a CAT Scan…"

The doctor left as she huffed.

_Ebb, flow…_

_Ebb, flow…_

_Ebb, flow… __**ripple**__?_

Katara's eyes widened.

Was this feeling… the cord… had she done something to… amuse it?

* * *

There were children laughing at the side of a lake, chasing and splashing each other in the shallows…

The scene changed, and she was now looking through the trees of a thick forest, the sounds of birds and wildlife surrounding her and her party of foragers. She'd joined them to collect more of the fresh herbs and flowers she needed for her altar. One of her companions called to her, laughing, and she turned to look at a woman with long, dark hair, almond-shaped eyes, and beads woven into her hair…

And then she was the one at the river bank in the sweltering summer heat, her arms lifted, her sleeveless tunic twisting, and shifting gracefully around her, calling and flowing with the water where she wanted it to go. A deep breath, a low exhale, and she'd created a perfect ice ramp for the children to slide on—into the water, with a tremendous splash. She laughed along with them, making a few more of different heights for them to play with, including a few small pucks for them to skim across the water. While she was a priestess, she was still a child at heart, sometimes, too.

When the next scene faded into focus, she felt male flesh mending together beneath her fingers, the healing glow spreading deeply into his tissues. Pale skin, dark hair, gold eyes stared back at her, piercing her, and she felt her breath catch. This man, who was-

_Katara? Katara, are you there?_

The voice broke softly through the scenes and while gentle, it demanded her attention.

_You need to wake up soon, my love. We miss you._

Maybe later, she thought drowsily, wanting to return to the happiness she'd felt as she'd enjoyed the memories. She wanted most of all to return to that last one, to what she'd been about to remember. It drifted further out of reach, and she felt frustration, and strangely, longing, mounting within her.

There was a small sigh, and another attempt by the intruder.

Would you like to see your old home?

Yes! She replied cheerfully. Would the golden-eyed man be there? She'd hardly had a chance to look at him, but he seemed so… familiar… important to her.

And her summer dwelling, the light canopy, the altar, the offerings and beautiful fabrics that surrounded her rose to her senses. The smell of the incense, the feel of the pelts under her feet.

I've missed this, she smiled.

Are you ready to come back yet?

No, not yet, she replied.

What about your family?

Yes, please! Can you show them to me?

So he did, and her father, smiling gravely at her as he patted her hair, appeared before her, still in the summer camp. A group of hunters were returning with their catch, and he went to meet them so they could present their bounty, and she gave a small nod of welcome to the men.

But then the scene changed, and different people, an entirely different scene appeared.

Her heart beat harder at the unfamiliar familiarity that arose within her.

Who are these people? She looked at the petite, dark-haired woman; the two tall men, one pale, with tattoos, the other darker-skinned, with longer hair.

These are your family, too.

She swallowed, and her heart struggled to understand. She felt the truth of it, but it _wasn't making any sense. _What about her family, her father, from her village?

They miss you, too, the voice said. They're your family, too.

I don't want to go back yet.

I know, he sighed sadly.

Who are you?

I'm waiting for you, he replied instead. I will always wait for you.

There was a pause, and the voice seemed to be further off. It's coming time.

Next there came a tremor, and her peace and contentment started to fray at the seams.

What's going on?

A bad feeling was closing in on her, and she mentally… reached… for him, instinctively seeking him out.

There was a flare of feeling around her at that, and she startled.

You're getting there, he encouraged, proud of her. You're almost there! You can do it!

I don't like this, she admitted, suddenly feeling sharp, cold fingers snatching at her, dragging her away.

Focus, you'll be ok. I'll stay with you. I promise.

Who are you? She begged now, the tearing at her person frightening, terrifying her. She couldn't see anything anymore, only feel.

You are needed where you are—but I'll stay close.

Wait!

I promise I will be with you. Always, my love.

No!

There came a rushing, high-pitched wailing, and suddenly she was dropped from a very high place.

Her eyes flew open.

"Katara!"

"Ms. Kuruk!"

"Katara, my child, you're awake!"

Completely disoriented, Katara stared around her as the room swam starkly into focus.

White walls, thin bedding, green uniforms; a hospital room?

And then, expectant expressions on each of the faces that loomed over her.

She was the _patient?_

A pair of strong, warm arms suddenly embraced her, pulling her up against a firm chest where a heart beat wildly against her cheek. "You're ok, you're really ok! Oh thank god, thank god…"

A name floated to her lips. "Jet?..."

And then the strangest thing: though she couldn't figure out why, she couldn't help the feeling of disappointment that crashed down upon her at the realization.

Tears streamed down Jet's face as he rocked Katara back and forth, oblivious to her regret.

Even stranger still, though, was the slight hum and warmth that resonated from within her… outwards. _Just saying hi, and welcome back,_ it seemed to casually imply. Then it faded into the background—or was pushed there, as she was swarmed by medical personnel, Jet, and Bato, too.

"What the Hell just happened?" she demanded, looking wildly at those gathered around her. Had anyone else felt that… hum-thing?

"Oh, it'll be ok now, honey," shushed a nurse, completely misinterpreting her words.

"The fuck it will," she muttered, -still unnerved by the 'hum-thing'- glaring at her. "And what are you doing?," she snapped next, coming back to herself and her medical instincts. "That pressure cuff needs to be a lot snugger if you want an accurate reading; you, over there by the drip, you can turn that thing off right now, get me some real food. And where the hell are my notes? I have work to do. I'm going to need a much sturdier side-table, and at least another lamp…"

"Oh, she's definitely fine," assured Jet with relief as he smiled brilliantly at the perplexed medical staff.

"Is this a freaking _bedpan_ under my ass!"

"Juuuuuust fine," repeated Jet. He was so obviously on cloud nine, he simply ducked when she hurled the offending object out of the way.

"Somebody get me a coffee! And my research!"

_And a psych assessment, maybe, if this hum-thing didn't go away within the next 24-hours,_ she decided to herself. But she wasn't going to share that concern just yet.

She felt a shiver go up her spine when the hum-thing seemed to… tingle at her in… was that, 'anticipation'?

"What was in that stupid drip?"

* * *

Jet looked up at Bato, the doctor hovering nearby, and then returned his bruised gaze to Katara.

"She's going to come out of this soon, right?"

"We just don't know, son."

"But… we were going to get married… We were planning our family… She was so excited about coming home…"

He hadn't left her bedside since he'd regained consciousness, and the entire staff had waited and watched his suffering, unable to console him without filling him with false hope.

Squeezing her limp hand for the thousandth time that day, Jet shook his head, his eyes glowing fiercely. "She's strong. She'll pull through. I know she will."

Behind him, Bato and the doctor exchanged concerned looks.

So much hung in the balance, so much depended on her, so many of his plans rested on her shoulders. He'd put so much time into her, she had to come through.

Without her, he was dead.

He needed her like he needed air to breathe.

Literally.

* * *

The truck came out of nowhere—the white-out conditions having hidden it perfectly until the moment of impact.

And the worst part was, it was so big compared to their vehicle it probably hadn't even registered the side-swipe that sent Jet and Katara careening back across the road, through the guard rail and down the embankment into the water.

Already unconscious, Katara hadn't noticed when they'd plunged through the ice and started sinking into the frigid waters.

But Jet had felt it all.

The first hit had thrown him sideways, when he'd hit his temple; the crash through the rails had him grunting; but the slow drowning had been terrible. His lungs had screamed for air even as he'd shivered from the rising waters. The engine had sputtered and died, the lights had gone out, the fuses blown, the battery and engine bay flooded. Their vehicle had become a tomb, cold, dark, impenetrable and inescapable.

Physically, he wasn't faring much better than their SUV.

Immortal werewolf that he was, it didn't mean he was impervious to pain.

The doors were jammed shut, dented from the multiple impacts; as the water had engulfed them, he'd thrown himself over and over at it, pulled Katara into his lap and tried to revive her, smashed at the windows, screamed for help (more for her sake than his) all to no avail.

Soon, her pulse had fluttered and died, as the water reached the ceiling.

He'd passed out not long after.

And the next thing Jet remembered was a bright blue light.

"K-k-ka-t-t-a-a-r-r-r-a?"

Shuddering uncontrollably from the cold, he'd struggled to open his eyes, but could only catch glimpses of the scene.

Firstly, they weren't underwater anymore.

Secondly, there were lights—or at least a bright blue glow all around him.

Thirdly… it kind of felt like they were floating.

"K-k-katarrrra," he tried again, and his eyes opened enough to look around him…

… out over the forest treetops.

"—the f-!"

Still trembling, he'd pulled himself up from his slump across the front seats—and realized Katara was gone.

He was in a floating car, and his fiancé was AWOL.

Ohhhhhhhh, this was a bad night, all right.

"Katara!"  
"Here."

The voice hovered from outside the cracked window.

Slowly Jet turned and felt his eyebrows raise into his still-dripping hairline, while his heart dropped into his stomach.

Oh.

So that was the source of the blue glow.

And that also answered where Katara was.

And that probably confirmed he had a serious head injury.

Hat trick.

From atop a cyclone of water that stretched from the lake below all the way up to wrap around her legs, Katara floated beside him in the air, exuding the azure light which wrapped around her, around the car, and himself, too. Her hair whipped around her in the wind, the snow obscuring Jet's visibility, but he could see she was… breathing.

He was going to ignore the floating-over-a-column-of-water thing for now, he decided.

It was then Jet noticed he wasn't severely hurt at all – a bit bruised, perhaps, but… he was able to breathe again.

"What's going on? Katara? Can you hear me?"  
She nodded, her eyes seeing right through him.

It gave Jet an eerie feeling when those ancient, knowing eyes passed over him.

Those were the eyes of more than his Katara.

Those were the eyes of a Spirit.

"Hang on," she mouthed to him.

And then dropped the car back onto the icy ground.

Jet blacked out again a moment at the impact (why she'd done that after reviving him, he had no idea; it almost felt… petty), but when he awoke again, it was to a blazing blue-green glow that blinded him.

Reflexively he snapped his eyes shut against it, and after a few moments it petered out; it was then he heard the sirens in the distance.

Looking to the side, he noticed Katara's door was gaping open, mostly hanging off the side of the SUV. He crawled toward it, and tumbled free of the wreck, searching for her.

In his still-weakened state, he didn't make it far.

But he'd seen Katara, sitting lotus-style on the top of the embankment, just as she'd tumbled forward.

Then he'd blacked out again.

**TBC.**

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* * *

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**Many thanks to sharkflip for being a sounding board for this chap. (It is unbeta'd, though, so please let me know if you catch any mistakes!)**

**This chapter posted December 25, 2010. Have a great holiday, all!**


	39. Chapter 39

_AN: Two short notes, since I had quite a few inquiries on when this would be updated: I'm aiming for monthly, which will be easier once we're moved into our new house. It's been a busy year._

_1 – I've been tumour-free for 12 months straight! Yay! (And for those who PM'd me, yes, my son's doing great following his own surgery – he can hear, and he's discovered he loves to sing now, hahaha!)_

_2 – Probationary period at new job successfully completed! Yay!_

_Disclaimer: As always, A:TLA belongs to its respective owners, not me._

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.

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* * *

**Merits - 39**

Toph's nose was wrinkled in irritation because of a certain individual who was being too stubborn for his own good.

A certain fanged individual.

"No you're staying here, and you're going to listen and do as you're told, for once."

Zuko glared at the pint-sized heavy-weight, but she ignored him.

"Zuko," she tried for patience, "It isn't that we don't trust you."

Aang stepped in from Toph's side. "But we don't know what kind of shape Katara's in – and it isn't a good idea to yell a great big 'surprise!' at her until we know she can handle it."

"She can handle it! She's stronger than you realize, I know she is!" Zuko growled.

"Not in that sense," insisted Toph, arms crossing in front of her. "She is incredibly mentally resilient—strong—yes. But emotionally, I think she's still repairing herself. What she needs right now is family and support—she needs to rebuild her emotional base, re-center herself, and once her heart stops spinning she'll need to start making some really big, important decisions." While her slouchy posture didn't let on her own worries, Toph's no-nonsense tone weighted their discussion heavily with seriousness. "And when that time comes, Sparky… that is when she will need you. But rushing to her now will only confuse her, and escalate her stress level."

"But I could just come with you to the airport-."

"No."

His jaw clenching Zuko's eyes blazed with golden fire as he stood his ground and started raising his voice. "I think I have a better idea of what she's gone through than any of you-."

But it was then that Sokka stepped forward—bloodshot eyes rimmed by dark circles, face gaunt and shoulders tense—and placed a patient, pleading hand on Zuko's shoulder.

"Look, man," he said quietly, exhaustion plain in his voice. "Please. We aren't saying you can't protect her—or implying anything like that, actually. We're saying she needs a chance to find 'normal' again. And I need to see my sister and know she's ok. Can you understand that?... Family to us in the Water Tribe—sometimes it's all we've had. Katara has been the closest member—no, the only member—of my family, who's been there for me unconditionally for over a decade. Now I need to be there for her. All I'm asking for is just a few days."

He weakly squeezed Zuko's shoulder, and the exiled prince tensed a long moment, seething, before relenting and stepping down. He took a physical step back from the group assembled in front of Toph's family's home, and his hands clenched at his sides.

"You'll see her at work, ok?" Sokka tried to reassure the man before him, but Zuko was already turning to stalk off, and Toph was hitting her ex in the gut to get his attention because she was leaving, and Aang was watching them all with sad understanding.

"Zuko, it's just a few more days," insisted Aang quietly, trying to calm him down. But Zuko only tensed further, and muttered,

"To you, it's a few more days; to me, it's already been over a century and a half."

Aang had nothing to answer him with, and his chin lowered as the car door slammed behind him.

* * *

Jet's apartment looked even dingier and more dismal when he returned to it alone—in a cab—and the werewolf was infuriated when he realized someone had broken in while he'd been away.

And taken back all of Katara's things.

It was as if she'd never been there; even her scent had been expunged.

Making matters far worse, there had then been the call.

"What do you mean, you need more time?"

Jet swallowed and ran a hand through his thoroughly disheveled hair, shifting the phone and its accusatory tone. The call was adding to his frustration levels exponentially.

"Look, something happened."  
"Yes, I'd already gathered that."

His temper slipping, Jet felt his canines lengthening as he spat, "No! I mean she's waking! She's regaining her memories! But not of me—of someone else!"

The voice on the other end of the line was silent a moment, considering Jet's words carefully.

"Are you certain?"

"Yes!"

"Then you need to move faster, don't you?"

The male fingers gripping the phone tightened until he heard a faint cracking noise, and Jet forced himself to calm. He needed to keep his wits about him, especially now.

"Why isn't she remembering me?"

"Perhaps she's buried you deeper? You need to meet her again, anyway; talk to her; see if you can jolt her memory a bit," came the amused reply.

"This isn't a game! You promised when I-."

"No, it isn't a game," the caller's tone turned menacing, but remained cheerful in its own way; as if it were delighted it could dole out threats to those it deemed deserving. Jet felt his skin crawl at the warmth it still held. "So don't disappoint me again, Jet," it added sweetly. "It isn't very flattering to the palace decor hanging slashed and whipped-thin wolf-skin rugs on my floor for my guests to wipe their muddy feet on, if you know what I mean. Oh, but you've seen wolf-skins hung before, haven't you? A whole. Village. Full."

A sickening wave of nausea hit Jet's stomach as the memories surfaced at the sadistic taunting; kits, pups, strung up headless on the drying lines around the camp; even the children…

The monster on the other end of the phone was hinting, not very subtly, at what it would do to his future children.

Swallowing down the bile, he answered in a voice thick with frustration and rage, "I won't fail you again."

He swallowed a growl at the patronizing, "Good boy."

* * *

"Hit the road, Jet."  
"And don't you come back no more, no more, no more-."

"No more!"

"Hit the road, Jet, and don't you come back no more…!"

The girls stomped their feet and danced in the backseat as Aang and Sokka tried not to cringe at their enthusiasm.

"So… uh… How was the flight?" asked Aang cautiously from the front passenger seat.

"Oh, you know, mostly frigid and awkward. But the snacks were free. It was great!"

"Did you get to see anyone while you were home?" Sokka glanced in the rearview as he indicated a lane change.

She nodded. "Absolutely! Bato bailed me out of a near-beatdown at the grocery store; I broke down an Elder's door; Gran-gran would have sent her love if she was conscious; oh, by the way, the SUV's been scrapped since we launched it into the lake." She paused, smacking her head suddenly before exclaiming, "Shoot! That reminds me. I forgot to unplug the toaster before I left!"

Aang was staring at her, mouth agape, but Sokka just nodded blithely.

"That's completely understandable, it sounds like you were busy."  
Katara snorted darkly. "_You have no idea_," may have been mumbled.

She glanced out the window, noting they were heading towards Toph's personal condominium. She turned to face her girlfriend. "We aren't heading to your family's place?"

"No, we have company right now—grumpy company. I figure you can stay at my place for a few days since it's closer to campus anyway." And a security-trained, supernaturally gifted, half-demon doorman on site at all times wouldn't hurt, either.

"Do we know yet when I'll be able to go to my own apartment? I miss having my own place."

Silence.

Aang and Sokka refused to turn to each other, knowing it would set off Katara's suspicions.

Luckily, Toph was expecting the question.

"I'll check—probably this week, if the building inspector's cleared it. Sokka took care of the insurance stuff while you were away."

"Thanks, you guys. I appreciate it." Temporarily mollified, Katara sat back and relaxed, a peaceful smile crossing her features. Her anxiety didn't leave her, though. Something was up with her friends. Not that she didn't appreciate their assistance, but it just wasn't possible for her to be genuinely… happy at the moment, or blindly accepting; at least not for the next little while. No matter how well or how long she'd known Aang, Sokka and Toph. As much as she'd healed herself emotionally, twinges of violation lingered around the periphery of her senses making her second-guess even those she'd been closest to.

There was so much she still had to tackle and understand. So much had happened; was still happening around her. And now she was sure that her friends were in on part of it, too. Katara wondered what they were hiding from her.

She had a lot on her mind, and she wasn't even sure of what it all was, yet.

Or, (thinking of her post-coma companion) more specifically… who.

* * *

"You're sure? Even just to hang out for a bit?"

"I'm really sure, Toph, but thanks. Maybe another night."

Toph had waited a second or two longer, in case Katara changed her mind, but when the older girl didn't budge Toph had heaved a sigh and straightened to standing, saluting.

"Then I'll be back after work—give Sokka & Aang a call if you want to come over! And no guacamole stains on the couch! The maid complained last time…."

Katara had waved at Toph's parting words, adding, "Just so you know, I'm waving goodbye, not giving you the finger."

"I appreciate that," grinned Toph, and with a final wave of her own she had closed the door behind her leaving Katara on her own for the night.

Around the spacious condo, since she'd arrived back in Ba Sing Se, it was finally quiet.

For the first time in what felt like weeks, Katara was truly alone.

At least…

She closed her eyes a moment, and listened; the connection hummed peacefully, stirring slightly as she paid more attention to it. As if it was lifting its head and waiting for her to speak.

… ah yes, there it was again, she thought to herself with resignation.

Physically alone? Yes.

Mentally was a different story.

She did still have her little… hitchhiker.

The one who popped in to see how she was doing from time to time, and had talked her out of stabbing Jet in the ear with the disposable plastic knife that had come with her on-board flight meal. _"It won't even penetrate his eardrum," it had reasoned with her. "Wait until you're on solid ground again and get something metal. Ask Toph, she'll have just the thing."  
"How do you know Toph?"_

"_Because you do. Now put down the knife, the stewardess is watching you."_

And it had been right.

Stupid conscience…-thing.

If it had been physical she would have cheerfully ground it under the heel of her boot for dissuading her from her revenge.

The feeling of 'company' remained with Katara, and grew stronger, as the plane had approached and landed in Ba Sing Se. For the most part it had manifested as a friendly, supportive, comfortable presence alongside her; there had been moments this had shifted, however. The streaks of anticipation, the crackling excitement, and… Katara was sure she'd been dreaming this next part, but she would almost have qualified it as outright _longing_, all had crossed the cord that connected her to the other presence, infusing its essences into her emotions.

As the presence that now constantly accompanied her (mentally) stirred again into responsiveness as she thought about it, Katara sighed, looking heavenward.

So, apparently It wasn't a strange, convoluted manifestation of her desire to bond with her friends and family again, either. Well, there went that theory.

She wasn't sure whether to celebrate or get herself committed.

If she was being honest with herself, she could admit it felt like it had strengthened a thousand fold since her plane had landed in Ba Sing Se. And as it had become stronger… in a way, it felt like she had, too. No longer was she moping or feeling victimized; instead, she felt vengeful, hungry for blood and ready to take names and risks in order to get it. And she truly felt like she could do it, too. There was an energy that had been building, cycling through her system and growing hotter with every beat of her heart. She wasn't sure when it had started but she'd noticed the first tendrils of that power flowing through her veins as she'd been in the hospital. The more she 'associated' and 'conversed' with her 'mental company', the more she noticed the inner energy flowing. It had unsettled her, at first; she could feel it almost pooling in certain parts of her body. But a bit of research had yielded at least some explanations—whether imaginary or convenient, she didn't even care at this point—and she understood that the 'pools' were chakra points on her body.

From there she had a list of websites bookmarked to look at, now that she was alone.

But that still didn't explain her 'bond' itself.

The research on that side of her investigations hadn't provided such easy answers.

In fact, it had provided very little outside of 'latent head injury trauma manifestations', 'stress-related hallucinations', and 'fabled and legendary soul bonds in urban YA-romance'.

As if any of those were going to help her, she mentally snorted.

So she wasn't sure what to do about that. Yet.

It didn't help that the connection had changed form, either.

What had started as whispers in her mind had become psychosomatic expressions.

To the point that now it had morphed from a mental awareness to a physical pressure—gentle, comfortable, but noticeable—inside her. Usually it was located within her heart or head, but on the rare occasion she was almost sure she'd felt hands on her shoulders, or a squeeze on her fingers… a kiss on her cheek.

Oh fuck it all.

At least it was a mostly well-behaved head problem.

And… while she was researching it, she could maybe… use its help?

Katara yanked on her own hair in frustration a moment.

Yes, fine, she was desperate.

She was going to ask her own mental deficiency for help diagnosing itself.

She might as well have her diploma changed from "Dr. Kuruk" to "Dr. Quacked-up."

"Just get on with it," she muttered to herself darkly.

Yes, back to business fucking it all.

Two more days. Two more days and the meds would have effectively been flushed from her system, and if the voice was still there then, at that time she could start drinking it into a plausible condition.

That settled, she pulled up the laptop on the coffee table in front of her, and opened her bookmarks.

She needed help. In one form or another.

_Are you, uh…. there? _she thought, tentatively reaching out along the bond.

It had been a lot easier for her to accept when she'd still been in the Tribe, now that she thought about it—at least she could have explained it away as part of her rehabilitation and weaning from her medications. Hallucinations, stress.  
But in the modern comfort of Toph's condominium, sitting on the leather couch, staring at her reflection in the TV across from her, Katara felt semi-awkward and uncomfortable.

Always, it hummed pleasantly against her insides. Was she… warming up to it?

_So… not that I don't appreciate all your support this past little while, as I tried to avert a full and proper mental breakdown,_ she began graciously_, but I could use a little help._

_Shoot, _he answered.

She took a breath and dived in.

_What are you?_

Katara couldn't see him—and yes, she was certain it was a 'him' at this point—but she could have sworn she felt him smile. Inside her.

_In what sense?_ He replied.

Oh fantastic, he was coy.

Katara's jaw clenched, and she counted to ten. Fine, be that way.

Feeling herself bordering on snippy—as she argued with what was possibly herself and the implications therein—Katara closed her eyes a moment and tried to think of what she really was asking.

_I have Google open in front of me. If I want to learn more about who, or what, you are, or… what I'm having, with you… what would I type in?_

There was a full minute of silence where she felt him thinking—she couldn't see or tell what his thoughts were, but something about his lack of immediate reply clued her in that he was actually reflecting on what the best answer was, or what information to relay.

Finally, she felt him return to her, and she raised her fingers on the keyboard. If he'd been a physical person, she would have thought he was watching her for a moment, to gauge her reaction to what he said next.

And that made her heart beat pound harder for a few seconds, in anticipation.

'_Soulmates'_, he replied.

And for the second time, she recognized the unbridled longing that stretched across their connection…but in both directions, this time; and the warm brush of _something_ against her neck and ear and heart. Underlying that was the instinctive agreement she felt with his simple answer, the flash of certainty, _homecoming!_, and joy which, when combined, utterly terrified her.

Because they all felt _right_.

So right, in fact, she wasn't sure whether to laugh or cry.

-And she didn't even know if it was real.

Swallowing to dispel the shivers that skittered down her spine, and the butterflies in her stomach, Katara let her shaking fingers fly across the keys and hit the 'Enter' button.

She held her breath.

And when the results popped up, let it out in a whoosh.

Jackpot.

* * *

Seated in his lotus position, candle flames rising and falling in time with his meditative breathing in a circle around him, Zuko felt his lips relax into the faintest hint of a smile. Warmth spread from his belly through his chest, and outwards from every inch of him. Relief and hope and anticipation, all rolled into one.

He couldn't help the arrogant smirk from peeking through.

_And he hadn't even broken Toph's rules._

**TBC. **

* * *

**AN: Thank you for reading! **


	40. Chapter 40

"**Merits" Chapter 40.**

_~Back to the beginning again~  
_

* * *

When Katara woke the next morning—still huddled awkwardly on the couch, having fallen asleep at her keyboard during her exhaustive research the night before—it was to the bubbling excitement that fizzed inside her.

From the bond.

Muttering swears under her breath, she looked around blearily before collapsing again.

An early riser, are we?

_Me? Yes. You never really cared for early mornings unless I woke you_, the voice greeted her cheerily—and Katara didn't miss the underlying hints about just _how_ he did so, the warmth subconsciously flooding her cheeks.

But she was confused. And not just from her broken sleep.

We just 'met' at my accident, though, didn't we?

But even as she thought it, she realised it wasn't true—flashes of images, memories?, burst onto her mind's eye: children careening down an ice slide into a lake in summer; the feel of a pelt-skirt wrapped and bunched around her waist as she waded into a pond; waking to find a beautiful necklace around her throat—

She started.

What… when…

_Those are your memories_, he informed her; she felt her breathing hitching as it had the night before when he'd first spoken the word, 'soulmates'.

But this looks—feels—too… too…

Katara stumbled over her words, trying to find one that fit the way the scenes affected her.

He was patient as she stuttered through her confusion.

Old, she finally decided, for lack of a better word.

_Genuine_, he corrected. _It was a long time ago._

How long?

Katara felt his reluctance to indulge her curiosity, and tried not to prod him too much.

_A hundred and fifty years ago_, he finally replied. _That's when we first met_.

She felt her mouth go dry.

Who and the what now?

* * *

Toph walked into her living room that afternoon to find Katara furiously typing on her laptop, completely focused, and occasionally muttering under her breath.

Her… uh, pungent... breath.

Sniffing subtly and turning away from her temporary roommate, Toph put her hands on her hips and approached warily.

"So, Katara… I see you found the whiskey," her foot tapped against something hard and round that shifted beneath her sole, "and the wine."

"Yeah, so," Katara retorted, and then—to Toph's surprise—she seemed to look upwards and snap, "and you shut up! You… you…" her words receded into crazed mumblings again.

Toph's eyebrows shot up into her hairline.

"Is everything ok over there?"

"Just fine, I said. Weren't you listening?... No, not you… I am talking to TOPH. Go away!"

Toph blinked slowly and closed her eyes, giving a subtle tap to the carpet. Had she missed something?

No, no one else was in the room…

"Are you working on something?" the younger woman asked cautiously, mentally scanning the room for anything that may have triggered Katara to drink herself into such a state. A social drink at the club was one thing—but this was Katara, Katara!, completely sloshed. And talking to herself. Aloud.

"School. History. My paper."

Then Katara snorted, and seemed to reply to the 'other' presence again, "No, no more help from you. I don't want any more of your 'personal experience' about my so-called past life, thank you… No, I'm not, I'm just saying that I need to back this up with research! … I never said that! Spirits, why are you still arguing with me! I never said I didn't believe you!... Ok, you know what, fine. Why don't you just write up the whole frikkin' story and e-mail it to me then? Ok? Fine, good, whatever. I'm getting another drink."

Toph blinked again.

And heard a bottle glug-glugging as someone took wild, slinging swallows.

And quick as a light being turned on, Katara turned back to her again and perked up. "Oh hey, Toph. You're still here? Want to grab a glass and join me? I was going to make breakfast soon."

Her arms dropping into her loose hoodie pockets—where they manically texted Aang and Sokka with a blunt, "GET HERE NOW" on her mobile—Toph tried to smile. It wavered about around the edges, and she shrugged.

"Oh, how about we stay out of the kitchen today," _–away from the knives and stove-,_ "and go grab brunch outside at one of those fancy places you like so much? My treat!"

"Oh… ok, sure…"

Then her face pinched, scrunching up, and Toph heard her retorting hotly, "No, you are not invited!"

The witch paled, just a little bit.

But Katara sounded pretty chipper as she stood—wobbly—and shut her laptop, packing it haphazardly into her bag.

"So, is this semi-formal? Oh, will this place have wi-fi? I'm waiting for an important e-mail."

Just a _little_ disturbed by their interactions that morning, Toph wondered briefly just what kind of wavelength her best friend was currently running on…

* * *

As Katara eyed the menu, Toph, Aang and Sokka convened around the corner near the bathrooms.

"Ok, what the Hell did she smoke?" Sokka growled, peeking over Toph's head to where Suki was babysitting Katara, trying to convince her no, she didn't need any vodka in her orange juice, it was too early for screwdrivers. (To which Katara jubilantly cried, "You're right! A Tequila Sunrise for the bright & early girl!")

"I don't know! I woke up and found her like this in the living room!"

Aang, though, observed the scene and noted the way Katara's head quirked to the side every so often, her expressions changing, reacting to…

Suddenly he realised.

Another person.

She was listening to another person.

He closed his eyes and sighed.

"What?" demanded Sokka, very worried about his sister's condition.

"Two things," said the Guardian tiredly. "One, she needs to stop drinking—that's just plain aversion to all the stress she's been under."

Remembering what he'd heard from Toph about how Katara had reacted when he'd abandoned her, years before, it was obvious to him. But the other part was still a hunch…

Toph and Sokka paused, reflecting, before making affirmative noises in the backs of their throats.

"And the second?"

"She really is talking to someone."

"Yes, to Suki-," began Sokka, but Aang shook his head.

"No, on the inside. Toph, can you lend me your 'sight' for a second?"

Snorting, Toph crossed her arms in front of her chest. "Use your own, mine's expensive."

"…Toph..."

He waited a moment, glaring with disappointment at her.

Then, as if she could truly feel Aang's disapproval, she relented.

"All right, all right…." She huffed, and took a wide-legged stance, putting her hands together for a moment. "Make it quick, this looks awkward in public," she groused, and felt him place a finger on the sensitive spot between her eyes.

"Thanks," he said, and she could hear the gratitude—and grin—in his voice. He closed his own eyes.

The dark-haired witch huffed again and blew her loose bangs from her eyes.

The shifting of her 'sight' was gradual, but even Sokka 'felt' the transfer of power. It started like a slow stream of liquid leaking from a 'gap' before it latched onto Aang's finger and raced up his arm into his own third eye.

It was more powerful than he'd been expecting; he winced and swayed for a second. "Packs a punch," he mumbled.

"Sorry, I forgot how much of a lightweight you are, Twinkle Toes."

"Almost got a read on it," he said, ignoring Toph's jibe. "Aha. Gotcha," he said, smiling.

"And!" demanded Sokka, frustrated he didn't have two sweet clues what was going on.

Aang was practically beaming. "Katara's talking to her soulmate!"

"Her what?"

"Her soulmate," repeated Aang as if it was the most wondrous, magical, best thing in the world, his grin brightening as he felt the intensity of the energy that was rippling off Katara. "Wow, I've never felt a bond that strong before. It must've been building for…"

Heart beating loudly in his chest, he realised exactly what it meant; and what it explained.

Toph nudged her head against his finger as his voice trailed off. "Oy."

"Aang? What were you about to say?"

"… for centuries," he finished, more quietly.

Sokka straightened and peeked over at his sister again.

"… so she really is this Yue person? From the legend?" he asked sadly. He'd held out hope, however tenuous, that somehow it wasn't his baby sister who was supposed to save the world; who wasn't really the one being hunted by demons; who was just his younger sibling that he looked out for, protected, and wanted to help in any way he could, because that's what overprotective big brothers did. But this? This was bigger than him. Proof that it was bigger than he was, even. And he just didn't know how to fight something like this. Sokka felt his pride wounded by the acceptance that he couldn't defeat this danger; and that he'd have to let her fight her own battle. Literally. And this acceptance scared him. He would fight it alongside her, but that was probably the most she would let him do; if even that much. Not for the first time, Sokka felt small in the crazy, supernatural mess that their lives had become.

Across from him, Aang nodded, his hand drifting down from Toph's forehead—she did not shiver when it accidentally trailed down her cheek, (obviously)—to rest against his side. Not a bit. It didn't affect her at all.

"Her chakra pools are deeper than mine or Toph's," the Guardian said, as if this explained everything. "Combined."

Toph's shoulders slumped and she took a deep breath to clear out the last of the chakra singeing that resonated in her skull from the transfer. A by-product of the exchange; and one of the reasons she was reluctant to share with others—not that she'd ever made public knowledge of that particular side-effect with anyone other than Jun. The risk was too great that it could be used against her. So for now, a little drained, she considered Aang's words, and their impact. Overall, it just reinforced or proved what they'd already been suspecting.

Squaring her shoulders again, she tilted her head to the side to crack her neck loudly.

"It can only mean one thing; she's a Spirit. Again," she tacked on the 'again' as an afterthought. "A real, live, flesh & blood Spirit. A breathing channel."

"So that soulmate she's talking to? Is that…"

Toph couldn't help it, she grinned, baring her canine teeth. And just barely held back from grinding her boot into the eatery's plush rug in frustration.

"Oh, That? Is One. Sneaky. Bastard."

* * *

Sometime that night, when she couldn't sleep, Katara lay on her bed staring at the ceiling.

It had been a very strange day.

And her buzz was wearing off. Damn.

Oy, she called out to her companion.

_Yes?_

Why won't you tell me your name?

_You already know me._

She frowned. I can't remember you. I can only see bits and pieces. It's like specific things are missing. There are holes.

_Maybe you tried hard to forget me, once._

Then why are you back again now?

_Maybe I couldn't forget about you._

That's a pretty cheesy line. What's next? 'Is Heaven missing an angel?' she giggled to herself.

_Not Heaven, Earth,_ he corrected.

So do we know each other? Are you real?

_Yes, and yes._

So how come I haven't seen you yet? I feel like I should know you—you're close, aren't you? It felt like being in Ba Sing Se made me closer to you.

_I wish we could be closer._

Ignoring the warmth in her cheeks—it had to be all the alcohol in her bloodstream—Katara closed her eyes and sighed. So what do I get to see in my dreams tonight? Are you choosing this time, or am I?

_What would you like to see?_

You, she declared firmly. I need to know who's following me around all the time bothering me and stopping me from stabbing werewolves with the silverware.

_It was a plastic knife! You would have done more damage to yourself than him!_

Still. Spoilsport.

_You may have cut yourself if it broke! _

Katara felt eyelids becoming heavier, even as they were already closed, and her body relaxing under her comforter in spite of the chastising her soulmate was giving her.

Hey, I think… I want to try and remember you, tonight, she said, yawning.

The voice paused in his ranting.

_Me?..._

Show me something that will remind me of you. I want to know who I'm bound to. This is a lifetime deal, isn't it? She asked, thought, wondered a bit sadly. Why can't I remember you?...

On the other end of their bond, Zuko recognised the longing again in her tone, her loneliness, the true desire to connect to him again.

His heart beat a bit harder and he swallowed, considering what he could possibly show her that would jog her memory.

And it came to him a moment later, as his fingers reached into his coat pocket nearby, and pulled out a treasured memento.

_All right._ He took a deep breath. _I'll show you._

_So try and remember me, Katara._

* * *

"You are not as I expected," she whispered their second night together as she again lay atop him, their breath slowing in the warmth of her furs.

"Hmm?" he asked as the sound drew him from drowsy contentment. "What did you expect?"

She lay silent for a time, one hand idly stroking the curve of his shoulder. "My Gran said…" she started, then paused and continued. "In her youth, your kind attacked our tribe. We call it 'The Terror.' Gran is the only one left who remembers… she used to tell stories – warnings."

She again paused and He bent his head to nuzzle her temple, keeping his teeth carefully away from her skin this time. The gesture was affectionate, not meant to draw blood and instead a way to deepen a kiss between lovers – between _mates_ – but he knew now was not the time. "What stories?" he asked instead.

She shifted to look at him, drawing her head back and meeting his eyes for a moment before dropping them, studying his skin under her fingers. "She spoke of demons with empty eyes who stalked the forests and the plains. Our tribe is of this land, we know its every shape, but your kind could move through it without ever leaving a track. We'd have no warning of your attacks, and we would find bodies slashed open and drained of blood in the mornings."

"It wasn't _me_," was all he could think to say, but she met his gaze, the memories of her tribe in the depths of her eyes.

"You are of your kind," she said simply, and he had no answer to that but held her eyes without challenge and eventually she sighed and dropped her head slightly.

"I wish I knew what that meant," she whispered. "You say you're not a demon but you're of Gran's legends." She moved her hand to cover his, stroke his fingers lightly. "You _look_ human – a foreigner at least – but I saw your claws." She looked up at him again. "I felt your teeth."

This time He looked away, fighting to keep his hand relaxed in her grip, to not curl his fingers into his palm. "It is as you say," he said finally. "I am of my kind – a _hunter_, a predator. My kind stalks and preys –" he looked back at her, saw the conflict in her eyes " – but we don't always kill." He slid his claws out slowly then, the blunt human fingernails elongating into talons, thin and sharp and glinting pale in the dark. Her fingers remained laced with his, even as her eyes widened and he held his breath for her reaction but she remained motionless. He moved his thumb to gently stroke the back of her hand, brushing its callused pad and smooth claw against her skin.

"We are like your wolves, in a way," though he _hated_ that comparison, "we take what we need to survive. But we are also like you." She looked up at him then and he dared tighten his fingers around hers, curl them so that the tips of his claws met her knuckles as she shivered. "Some of us take more than we need."

He prayed she wouldn't ask further, wouldn't ask what _he_ had taken; he feared his answer, feared her reaction, the bond still so fragile between them even as it pulsed deeper every day. She finally nodded and dropped her eyes to his fingers still entwined in hers and he drew a deep breath before he moved his other hand to stroke her hair, move his claws delicately over her scalp, her neck.

"You _did_ need me," she finally whispered, surprising him. "And you took only what you needed, that time."

He nodded stupidly, even as she didn't look up, and he cupped her jaw in his hand so that his claws rested on her cheek. "I would never hurt you," he whispered, and realized suddenly that it had become _true_. His innards lurched but her eyes held him, drew him from the confusion and into her and he stroked the skin of her cheek gently. _I won't_, he promised, _I won't ever hurt you._

* * *

Katara's breathing slowed at the images, the feelings, the memories he evoked.

That was me, she whispered internally.

_Yes. You've always been beautiful. Thoughtful. Curious. Brave._

And you. You're there, too. But it's so foggy! I can't see you properly, but I know it is you. I can feel it is you.

Her frustration, her earnest desire to remember him, spurred him on to share more with her.

_Are you ready for more?_

Yes! Damnit! And one where I say your name!

_… then please remember …_

They tried, again and again that night, to find a way to wake Katara's memory in full.

* * *

The night before she was to return to school, work, and her normal life, Katara tossed in her sleep; images, memories and newly re-discovered emotional ties seeped together in frustrating pools. Slowly, achingly slowly, they merged—but then, eventually, they separated, revealing no longer murky pools, but clear expanses of memory. They were becoming linear, and in their renewed chronology, they were incredibly revealing.

And one thing was becoming increasingly clear: she certainly wasn't going crazy.

She was just born to save the world-.

_(-Again.)_

She was close, so close—different scenes filtering through and finally, _finally_, piecing themselves into a rough order. The myriad sections of the puzzle that was composed of her multiple lives were finally organizing themselves into specific time periods and sequential order. She was starting to align them, too, and gained confidence as one piece fell progressively into place after another.

Her 'first' life; she'd been a shaman, a priestess, a liaison of sorts between her Tribe and the Spirit World. She'd been sick as a result of that link, but had lasted until a battle of some sort—and her hitch-hiker (soulmate) had… killed her… in order to protect her from a worse fate. He had given her the only chance she had – to be born again.

This was a difficult—if not the most difficult—situation to reconcile within herself. Her throat and chest tightened every time it hedged into her consciousness (and unconsciousness, when she slept). But what gave her hope, as cliché as it sounded, was the sense of relief and love she felt each time she re-lived that moment when his hands tightened their grasp around her neck and her heart beat stopped at her last breath.

And always surprising her, the gratitude—and utter void of blame—she felt towards the owner of those hands.

The neck, she would realize upon waking, that had worn the indigo blue ikat scarf she used to wear to her classes, in her 'new' or 'modern' life.

Because she would then remember flashes of her life as it was now – receiving the scarf from her mother and grandmother as a young teenager, a family heirloom that had been passed down for generations…. She just hadn't thought before about how many generations… Or how on earth such a foreign-made, beautiful example of Eastern, mid-19th century textiles had ever ended up within the far reaches of the North, with her Tribe. 150 years ago.

The scarf she'd lost when… when she had the delusion about being attacked by the thugs, three months prior. The one she and Toph had discussed and Toph had mentioned she must have heard it over the radio… That she'd attributed to Jet putting something in her tea, yet she'd woken up in her own room the next morning, and sped off to class, as if nothing was truly wrong. Ignoring the fact she hadn't felt alone, and that she'd still been wearing the clothes she wore out the night before.

Yet she'd been unable to locate her heirloom scarf that morning; it had been missing ever since.

Somehow, the scarf she used to wear to class… that was a gift she'd received, many lifetimes ago, from a traveler, a lover… _a demon…?_

_Or so I thought. What is considered a 'demon'?..._

Jet was a werewolf; she understood that. However, she still couldn't piece together her soulmate, his identity or what he truly was…

Was it just his reputation that made her think he was something other than human? Yet in her dreams, she'd had fangs; she'd felt his claws trailing down her naked skin…

But those claws had also been delicate enough to love her; and to lay the scarf for her without a single snag in its finely woven fibres. _The beautiful scarf…_

It had survived. She didn't know what had happened to it now, or where it was, but she had _seen_ that scarf with her eyes, felt it warm around her neck. Then, 150 years ago, and just as recently as several months ago. If something so fragile could survive, could some_one_?...

…Could a person live that long?

_Yes_, his voice whispered, interrupting her for the first time in some hours. _Yes, I can. I will be here for a very, very long time. _

Katara felt her heart and concerns lift a bit at this confirmation.

He had survived. Her 'soulmate'. He had waited for her; she had heard him, felt his emotions through their bond, listened to him as he supported her at her weakest, until she regained enough strength to carry on again on her own. She didn't know who he was (yet), but something deep inside her whispered she would find out soon. Katara couldn't help the small thrill that ran through her in anticipation.

Yes, he had survived. And she had survived, too_. Or, rather, returned_.

And the fact was… she wasn't finding this notion as truly mind-boggling as she once had. The fear it had once instilled in her had dissipated.

Somewhere between the memories of her past life as 'Yue' resurfacing; Zuko Sozin becoming her infuriating office partner at work & school; her boyfriend Jet turning into a werewolf; and the near-death experience she had after her car accident… when she gained (or regained) access to her soulmate...

All things considered, these events didn't feel so crazy, or random, anymore.

In fact; she was beginning to get her balance in this newfound sense of normalcy.

Which left her with one—no, two!—questions to be answered.

First, who was her soulmate? His identity felt so obvious to her sometimes, yet she couldn't quite grasp it in her hands. She had a feeling she'd be face-palming herself when she finally figured it out.

Second, and perhaps, more importantly… if her soulmate was still about in the here-and-now, and she had 'come back' in a sense…

Who else had survived from that time, a century and a half ago?

* * *

"Do you…" she whispered into the dark as he explored her body again with his lips, scraping his teeth lightly across her skin as she shivered.

"What?" He asked, looking at her for a moment, her eyes vivid despite the dark.

"Do you… want to taste me?" she asked, her voice sounding small and he froze, his pulse pounding in his ears. "I can feel… that you want to."

"Always," he whispered brokenly, not daring to move except to grip her tighter. "_Always_." Guilt rose in him as he remembered all the times he _had_ tasted her, in the depths of night, in the dawn's chill, feeding on her when she couldn't remember, couldn't resist; it clawed at him as he remembered the taste sliding across his tongue that very morning.

"You can," she whispered, and the trust in her eyes burned.

"Are you sure?" he asked "I don't –"

"I know you want to," she said, raising her hand to stroke his cheek and the touch, too, burned. He lay his forehead on her smooth stomach and tried to control his breathing, tried to control the lust that rose in him, even as her words broke him. "I want you to."

When he could trust himself again, he nodded against her skin, feeling her muscles clench and ripple, the blood coursing too thin and too deep there among her sleek planes. "Yes," he whispered, and raised his head to look at her.

Her eyes held fear but also curiosity and beside it that _trust_ that gnawed at him, but she nodded and smiled and tipped her head slightly. The lust rose in him again at the sight of her throat willingly offered to him, the sincerity throbbing to him along their bond, and he slid up her to cup her cheek in his hand. He rested his forehead against hers and felt her close her eyes and they lay together for a long moment, her heartbeat drowning his senses.

He kissed her temple gently, then scraped his teeth along her skin, letting his fangs elongate with his need, glide along her cheek as he dropped his hand to caress her shoulders and she shivered, turned her head into his lips. He kissed her deeply, warmly, tongue sliding along hers and coaxing her to feel his fangs, the way they changed the shape of his mouth, and he almost bit into her there before he broke the kiss and moved along her jawline to her throat. His hands were busy, stroking and teasing and she slid her fingers into his hair, clung to him as her breath came faster and she tipped her head back.

He closed his eyes again to subdue the lust, then kissed the thin skin just over her pulse, slid his teeth along it, licked gently at the spot as she quaked. "_Zuko_," she whispered, tugging at his hair, and he spread his jaws to nip gently at her.

Her skin parted easily as she gasped, the tiniest of gashes but he watched blood well up from it, lifted his head and met her eyes for a moment before bending to lap at it. She shivered under his tongue, then cried out and he poured all of his being into this moment, her body beneath his teeth and his hands as he suckled and stroked and tried not to tear into her, _devour_ her and own her like he soon would.

He nipped her again as she climaxed, gasping and panting and clutching at him and he drew it out as long as he could, teeth and tongue and hands and mind working together for _her_, for this woman whose soul called to his even this close to him.

He continued to lap gently at her neck as her breathing slowed and soon the punctures sealed over and he savored the last of her blood as she pulled him up for a gentle kiss. He smiled softly at her and gathered her into his arms and lay his head in the crook of her shoulder. She sighed deeply with him and soon she slept, but Zuko remained awake all through that night and the dawn's gray, thinking and hoping and regretting.

* * *

Katara jerked awake with dizzying force, then lay corpse-still in bed, now wide awake.

_Katara?_ She heard-felt him ask, concerned at her sudden change in state.

She ignored him. Beside her, the clock read 5:35am.

She was still shaking. Her dream was still fresh in her mind and she felt herself alternately flush and pale even as her heart raced and pounded against her ribcage, as if she'd just run a twenty kilometer marathon. (In winter. Wearing snow-shoes. Whatever hyperbole would most effectively convey that her heart was in her throat and she felt like she was about to throw up and collapse at the same time.)

It couldn't be true.

_Katara? Are you ok? Do you remember me now?_

Oh, yes, yes, she did.

It was slamming into her with the force of a storm-stirred tide, the images and memories and feelings throwing her entire world view for a loop.

Her time in the Tribes, a century before. His offerings, his wounds, his ministrations, his claws, teeth, her heartrate sped up as she remembered his mouth—

Her time at work and school, sharing an office, arguing, fighting, him chasing after her after she left the club—was lured from the club, she now realized, by something…-her visit to her apartment with him and Suki, her mind was whirling madly as more memories filtered through again—

-and, suddenly she gasped, the explosion!—

Then… things became muddled.

So very, very muddled.

Katara was left reeling, gasping, her fingers gripping her night shirt as she tried to calm herself as she drowned in the implications.

It was too much.

Far too much.

Why hadn't she remembered this before?

Where was the deluge coming from?

Katara could hear and feel her soulmate's agitation at her continued lack of reply, but struggled as the rest surfaced and sank in her mind's eye, images, feelings, bobbing up for her to catch a glimpse only for them to sink again before she could grasp the meaning behind them.

_Katara?_

_Katara…_

_Katara!_

She shook her head and winced as her brain hit her cranium and vertigo followed suit—hangover, right.

_You drank too much_, he scolded, not unkindly.

_It was celebratory_, she argued, even as she swore to herself that _this was impossible_, that _Oh Spirits, this had to be some kind of gross cosmic joke_.

"You've gotta be f-ing kidding me!" she wailed, and heard Toph thump on the walls from her own room, the younger woman sleepily mumbling, "Shut up… s'late…"

_What could you have been celebrating so vigorously that you wouldn't share with even your closest friends?_ he demanded.

Feeling her patience snap under the stress, Katara grit her teeth and mentally yelled at him.

My stupid period came, you jerk!

…

_Uh…_

That's a good thing, she snarled, completely forgoing her own embarrassment (because they really were well beyond that).

Her mind was still trying to fix its broken-ness while she argued, but it was in vain. It was true. She could feel how true it was. How beautiful and loving and intense and passionate and eternal _and ohgodI'mgonnahurl…._

_What are you talking about, what the hell is… Your peri—oh! Your…._

Because there was no way on Earth that she could possibly be soulmates…

_-Of course, uh, yeah! Yay… uh… periods... ?_ He offered awkwardly, but still earnestly trying to be encouraging.

… with Zuko Sozin.

Katara smashed her pillow onto her face just in time to muffle her screaming.

Because in spite of everything she thought she had (mentally) accomplished, this had just pretty much confirmed: _she was one hundred percent certifiably insane._

And though he tried to keep it to himself through their bond, Zuko was suddenly very worried Katara may have heard him mumbling about her crazy mood swings not having changed a bit in the past 15 decades.

So for the next little while, Zuko tried to awkwardly comfort Katara; Katara tried to find her mental 'reset' button, and the pair suffered miserably together in harmony. Whether they wanted to or not, because they still hadn't figured out all the ins and outs of their soulmate bond quite yet.

Would you leave me alone! She mentally cried.

_I don't know how!_ He retorted.

Then figure it out!

Yes, it was a match made…

…made..

….

… well, it was a match made.

(Really, what was the Spirit World thinking when they paired these two up?)

* * *

Zuko couldn't keep still in his office the next morning.

Officially, he'd nearly finished his review of Katara's department; unofficially, he'd completed it weeks ago and he'd been biding his time pending her return to Ba Sing Se. He'd spent a great deal of time buried in meditation, but her instinctive and at times uncontrollable pull on their bond had provided too great a distraction—and temptation—for him to ignore. So he'd prowled the campus, stalked and paced in his office, and made up excuses for 'out of office meetings' and 'appointments', just to expend some of his pent-up energy.

Which had all led up to today.

She was due back at work that. Very. Day.

Professor Bumi had confirmed it.

Toph had confirmed it.

Even Katara herself had confirmed it, through their bond, when he'd inquired several days prior… before they'd… uh…

Welllllll….

Zuko paused, mentally wincing, and decided not to relive that moment (again).

(In the far reaches of his mind, he thought he heard Katara snarl. Maybe.)

In preparation for the big reunion, he'd wanted to go all out; flowers, furs, offerings, jewellery! Anything she wanted!

But… since their… great… discovery…

_(Stop thinking of me! Now!)_

He sighed.

-Zuko had since decided it may be best to 'keep things on the down-low', as he'd once heard Sokka say. So he'd sat and considered all the things that he loved about Katara, knew about her, knew would make her happy, and hopefully, remember the good times they'd had… before.

With that in mind, he'd chosen two gifts, and those two gifts very, very carefully at that.

Yes, they were small; but he knew, without a doubt, that they were the most meaningful items, physically, he could ever provide her. With these, she would hopefully be able to put aside their rough (_Hah! Rough! Try 'volatile'!_ she scoffed) re-introductions, and see past their conflicts to bring back what they'd had before.

Reaching into his pocket for the hundredth time that morning, Zuko stopped in front of Katara's desk, staring at the surface. His brow furrowed and he took a breath. _Don't mess this one up_, he told himself.

"Too late."

Surprised at the male voice, Zuko spun around to find the last person he'd ever expected to see, leaning into the office, obviously looking for something.

Or someone.

Zuko's golden eyes sharpened and narrowed, and he felt his entire body tightening in anticipation of a fight.

"What are you doing here?" The vampire glared openly, his back straightening up to his full height.

Jet ignored his posturing, and took a step in, still looking around.

"Katara in yet?"

"Get out."

Jet sniffed the air, subtly. "No, I guess not. I'll be back later, then."

"Get out. Stay out. Don't ever come back," growled Zuko, feeling his fangs lengthening and his claws pushing to break through the tips of his fingers. Oh how he burned to rip apart the being across from him.

"Tell Katara I'll see her later."

Enraged, Zuko felt himself snap.

He moved fast, faster than Jet had anticipated, and shoved the 'were out the door into the hallway.

"_You stay the Hell away from her!"_

And then his claws did break through, and slashed across Jet's throat.

* * *

Katara was already stewing when she reached the strangely noisy department in the morning. She had a horrible headache, her eyes were dark-rimmed and bloodshot from her troubled sleep, and, oh, joy of joys, by the way had she mentioned her little visitor was being a terrible houseguest? Because it was.

Stupid uterus.

Stupid… everything…

Rubbing her eyes as she turned the corner that led to her office, Katara bumped to a stop when she found herself face-to-back with a bright purple… sweater-robe-thing.

"Mph, what's going-," she grumbled, only to be interrupted by two viciously angry male voices.

"—you can't tell me what to do! You have no right!"

"When I tell you to stay the Hell away from her, you do it! She is a hundred times too good for you!"

Jet spat, his bloody nose making the sound making it sound wetter, if it was possible. "I didn't know you were so attached, Zuko—I thought she was just some chick, to you; just like all the others. At least I was faithful. You can't seem to figure out who to go after next."

By this time Katara was pushing around Professor Bumi to gape at the men who were desperately trying to beat each other senseless, the rest of her department shifting around them to try and pull them apart (sometimes), or just move past them to get to their own offices.

"After what you did to her, you have no room to talk, Jet! You sick rap-."

"_That's enough! Both of you!"_

Katara's voice exploded from her throat before she'd even realized she'd opened her mouth.

In front of everyone, they were discussing her private business.

All turned to stare at her, as the hallway echoed with her furious tone.

"Jet, stay out of my life!" she hollered angrily, her feet planted firmly on the floor, her head held high. She turned to Zuko next, "And you! _Stay out of my head!"_

She whirled on the rest of the assembled gawkers and leveled them with a glare.

"And the rest of you get back to work! This isn't recess!"

Amidst whispers and mutterings the crowd departed, leaving Katara and the two men alone in the hall. Her breathing was still rapid, her cheeks flushed, but she felt the anger still coursing through her veins, brightening her eyes and inflaming her.

As she wound her tirade down (he hoped), Zuko let go of Jet's shirt, shoving him away, and tried to talk to Katara, feeling his heart plummeting at the expression on her face.

"Katara, please, listen, I can explain-."

"Hell no. I have work to do. Clean up this hallway, and get out. I want my office back." She turned to Bumi, who still stood a few feet away, eating his popcorn. "Professor Bumi?"

"Yes, child?"

"May I have my office back to myself, please? I feel harassed when Zuko is near me, and very uncomfortable."

"Ok, sure. Zuko, you can take my office."

Katara's eyebrows lifted, "Uh, I meant, alone to myself, that is, no disrespect, but-."

"Oh, nonsense, nonsense! I'll go use my back-up office. It's in the second sub-basement," he confided in a stage-whisper. And with that, he turned around and returned to his corner office, reaching out to tilt a book sideways out of the bookcase. With a rapid _swoosh!_, the wall swung open, and Bumi crammed the entire contents of his office down a giant slide which was located inside the hidden compartment in the wall.

"That about does it! All yours now, Zuko m'boy! Oh, do watch out for the trap door… that's still somewhere in the floor… I think I left it by the window."

_Swoosh!click_, the door-wall swung back into place, leaving the room barren but for the echoes of his mad cackle as he flew down the slide after his possessions.

Jet, Zuko, and Katara just stared.

"Ok, that guy's just totally messed," said Jet, a hand wrapped around his still-bleeding throat.

"Agreed," said Zuko and Katara, before they turned to look at each other, Zuko hopeful and Katara frowning.

Security finally arrived, then, to escort Jet away, ("Katara, we need to talk. I'll see you later, ok?" "Go die in a fire, Jet.") and the rest of the hangers-on returned to their work, leaving Jet and Katara in the hallway.

Taking a deep breath, Zuko raised a hand to run it through his shaggy, no long, now, ever-dark hair—it had grown out since Katara had been away.

She was loathe to admit it, but it suited him remarkably well, and she had a hard time not looking at him, partly because of it.

"Welcome back," he said quietly. His arms had automatically started lifting to wrap around her, to hold her close—but one look at her furrowed brow and he tucked his hands in and dropped them to his sides.

"If you could have your stuff out by noon, I'd appreciate it. I have a lot… a lot to catch up on."

Zuko felt his face fall, his heart breaking.

She wasn't faring much better. Oh she hated the defeated way he looked, especially when her breath hitched; she hated how vulnerable his lips and eyes were, how physically hurt he looked at her words. But this was necessary. They needed their distance. It was the only way.

"Katara, please, look, I can explain-."

She turned her head to glance at a clock in a neighbouring office. "I have lab soon. Goodbye."

But when she started away, he followed her for a few steps, unable to let her out of his sight. So long, he'd waited so long-!

"Do you remember me? Now? At all?" he asked, his throat tight. Any kind of recognition. Anything. He'd settle for almost anything to hear her say his name aloud.

"I hear you're nearly finished your evaluation. Congratulations, good luck at your next position."

"Katara, please," he begged, feeling his heart squeezing painfully.

She stopped at the top of the stairs that led down to the main floor, to the exit. Then she turned to look at him over her shoulder.

"Stay out of my head, please," she repeated.

* * *

At quarter to six that night, Katara wandered back to her—blessedly vacant—office. All Zuko's folders & personal effects, what few he'd brought in, had since disappeared. He had left her office. She told herself she was thrilled.

And surprisingly enough, he'd actually given her her own space mentally, too. It had been a very quiet afternoon, all things considered. Katara hadn't realized she'd been holding her breath as she entered the small room until she slumped into her familiar chair and let it out in a long sigh.

She could tell, by the way her desk was organized, that things had been disturbed in her absence. She felt her brow arching for a moment, before sighing to herself.

"Right, they had a fight in here this morning… Of course they messed with my stuff." One of these days, she'd figure out how to thank them so vigorously they would tremble with it. And maybe beg for mercy.

The notion made her chuckle darkly for a moment or two, and grin. (She really needed to spend more time with Toph again—that girl was the Queen of Vengeance and Pranks.)

To her left, something caught her bright blue eyes in the encroaching darkness of evening. Her nearest desk drawer was slightly askew, ajar, and there was something flipped over the edge, draping out over the side.

Had she left something in there when she'd left, weeks ago?... she wondered, reaching over.

The moment she touched it with her fingertips, she felt electricity crackle up her arm in a blinding flash, and realization hit, stunning her.

Oh.

In his own office down the hall, Zuko felt a rush of emotion pass through him, and smiled softly to himself.

He let out a content sigh, and returned to his meditation.

Some time later, Zuko heard a cell phone ringing in the distance.

Listening carefully, he heard Katara answer.

_It was not eavesdropping unless he moved closer to hear it,_ he rationalized, and stayed perfectly still. (Luckily, most of the other professors and researchers had already left for the night, with only a few die-hards holed up behind locked doors or in their labs.) If he accidentally tipped the door to his office open a bit further in order to listen to the empty hallways, who was there to tell him he was wrong?

"Hello?... Oh hey, Toph! Yeah… It is? Tonight?..."

He heard her shuffling around in her desk, and the sound of writing.

"Yeah, yeah… Oh Toph, no, no, that's great news… Yes, I'll definitely head over for a first look."

Paper crinkled, and whatever she'd been writing had been tucked away for safe keeping.

"Ok, if it's ready for me to go take a look over tonight, I just need to check in with the doorman to get my new key, got it…What do you mean, Jet called you?"

Zuko's knuckles went white and he had to stifle a growl that built in his chest. Going by the frigid tone of Katara's voice, she felt about the same.

"He can pick up his shit from the doorman. No, I'm not letting him in anywhere. I'll get his stuff together, if there's anything left of it, and drop it off with the front office tonight…. He can make his own arrangements to collect it from there… Yeah, you can tell him it'll be ready first thing in the morning…."

There was an extended pause next, and Zuko assumed Toph had gone on to discuss something else; his hearing wasn't quite good enough to pick up the specifics, but going by the huffs and silences from Katara's side, he wondered if it was something his soulmate wasn't up for discussing yet.

Another sad sigh, and he felt the twinges of her regret filtering through his senses. A part of him longed to reach out for her and comfort her, but he told himself to wait, and see how she'd reacted, really reacted, to his gifts. That would be the true tell.

"…no, no Toph, it isn't that…" she sighed, and he heard her leaning, possibly resting her head on her hand on her desk. "No, it's just… I know there's a bond between us, and it's amazing, but… I hate it, but Jet had a point, today; Zuko has been… around… oh yes, he has, you don't remember?... oh, I'll give you an example: he was a manwhore when I met him. I mean, how am I supposed to react to that?... I know he feels something for me, but how am I supposed to take him seriously when I caught him in the backseat of his stupid car outside the Bomber with some airhead co-ed!" she exclaimed with a growl. "What, so we'll be together for a while, then he'll go have some stupid fling and come back to me again when he's done? Am I the default because I'll supposedly 'always love him'? Hell no! I'm no one's runner-up!"

A drawer slammed shut in Katara's office, and Zuko realized that she was packing up to go; he wheeled himself back to his desk again (when had he scooted all the way to the door to listen?), pretending to ignore her. But it was now the prince's turn to be stunned.

_That_ was why she was rejecting him?

"… I'm on my way over now—no, you don't need to send a car, I'll grab a bus or something… Yes, I promise!... Ok, I'll call you when I get there, and again when it's time to leave… Ok… Yes… Yes, I promise I won't walk alone…" He had no doubt she was rolling her eyes or shaking her head. "Thanks, 'Mom', I'll see you when I get in… No, I'll do some inventory tonight, but I won't stay over in the apartment until I've picked up whatever I need to replace… Right, thanks, see you later…. 'bye, Toph."

Zuko sat back as he listened to her boot-heels clacking through the hall, and down the stairs.

In all honesty, he was absolutely flabbergasted.

It wasn't that she needed space; it wasn't that she thought he was a demon; it wasn't that she was scared of him, intimidated by him, or unsure of _what she_ was, even, or living in some kind of denial!

… she just didn't respect him as a potential love interest.

In short… she thought he was a player.

Looking back, ok, he could kind of see her point…

But, thought Zuko, snapping up his own jacket, slamming his laptop shut and yanking the cord on his lamp to cut the power as he plunged his office into darkness, this was something he could change.

This was a perception.

It was how, and what, she thought of him.

All he had to do was explain to her what he truly was, she'd understand, and they'd fall completely back in love with each other and live happily ever after.

Yes, that's exactly what would happen, he told himself, ignoring every instinct in him that was clamouring at him to SLOW DOWN, and THINK ABOUT THIS FOR A SECOND, and DID HE REMEMBER HER TEMPER and the FACT THAT SHE. HELD. _GRUDGES _?

Of course he didn't listen.

He'd come so close to holding her in his arms today, and he was blind to anything that stood in the way of having that back.

So slamming his door shut behind him, he raced out of his office and looked around, trying to figure out which way she'd gone.

He would resolve this tonight.

_They_ would resolve this tonight. By hook or by crook or possibly even cranial trauma (he didn't doubt Katara's physical abilities to land a solid hit on him, were she riled enough), he would get her to talk to him.

With that, he set out in the overcast night, the first hints of thunder rumbling in spite of the sub-zero temperatures.

* * *

It was a dismal, dismal state of affairs in spite of Katara bracing herself when she held her breath and entered slowly into her damaged apartment that night.

Oh, she could see that Toph had already had repair crews through; most of the front entranceway had been cleaned, but there was still evidence where holes were broken through the walls, whether by the explosion or by the firefighters who had torn through in a mad effort to contain the fires. The carpets were still burned and patchy; the smell was terrible; and the walls…

Her heart fell when she saw the family portrait she used to keep on a small end-table at the entrance, the glass smashed, the better part of the picture itself charcoal inside the frame.

"Guess I'm choosing paint-chips this weekend, huh?..." she tried to joke; it echoed hollowly in the lonely, abandoned dwelling.

Her heart sinking with each step she took, each newly discovered evidence of damage feeling inflicted upon her personally, Katara's shoulders stiffened before slumping, and when she found her bedroom, she stopped completely, and just stared.

_She had survived, this?_

Yellow eyes, dark hair, sharp teeth flashed through her mind, blurred together and indistinct, but she knew.

He'd saved her.

Somehow, he'd managed it.

Her throat clogging uncomfortably from the acrid smell of the burnt remnants, irritating her eyes, Katara forced herself to turn away and pulled her phone, dialing. It went straight to voicemail.

"Hey Toph, just wanted to let you know I'm here. At my place. I'll call again before I leave. OK? Later."

Promise kept, the phone fell awkwardly into her pocket.

_Welcome home, Katara,_ she reflected.

…To what's left.

She almost let her self-pity get to her, until she caught sight of one of Jet's 'magazines' peeking out from beneath a cushion on her relatively unscathed couch.

Her eyes narrowed.

_Oh you mother fucker. You brought your nudie-mags to _my_ apartment?_

With that she stomped back to her bag, ripped open the box of garbage bags she'd purchased from the convenience store she passed on her way over, and flicked it open with a particularly satisfying _snap_.

Screw the sentimental shit; she'd just decided this was going to be _positively cathartic_.

(When she found a pair of his socks piled in her laundry, she laughed aloud, manically. "Screw you, laundry! Into the bag you go! Bwahahahahhahahah! Oh look, his spare work shirt! How did you survive the blaze? _How about we try for round two_!" _*fwooosh!*_ "See, you _can_ burn! So, what else did that bastard leave lying around...")

… Her night wasn't so bad, after that… until the neighbours complained about the cheerful little blaze on her balcony.

She went back to her cleansing with a smile, thereafter.

* * *

When Katara heard the knock at her door, she answered it hesitantly, expecting to find one of her neighbours.

Her neighbours did not have sexy dark hair, however, and this visitor certainly did.

"We need to talk," Zuko said without preamble. "May I please come in?"

"No."

He pushed his way in and closed the door behind him, and Katara glared at him openly, mouth shocked into a gaping, if indignant, 'O'. "Did you not hear me?"

"If you want to scream and yell, please do it now that the door is closed. If you want, I'll sit down and wait until you're done. But when you are done, could we please, _please_ talk?"

"No! Get out!"

Trying to contain his frown (He was trying to talk to her! Why wasn't this working?), he repeated patiently, "I can explain, I swear, I just need you to listen to me for a few minutes, and-."

"And I need you to get the Hell out! I'm busy!" (She threw another picture of Jet into the fire; she smiled evilly when it burst into flames, tittering under her breath.)

"—and I promise it will all make sense, and I'll be able to prove I love you, and that you aren't just 'some chick'—."

"Seriously, Zuko, you're really not winning any points right now with your 'broken ears' routine, and I swear I will call the police-."

"—to me, you're the one woman I love, will ever love-."

"—and you have proven that you aren't all that great at that whole 'faithful' deal, you know-."

"—and if you would just LISTEN to me, I could EXPLAIN that, I said!"

Katara scoffed and put her hands on her hips, turning away from him and heading to the kitchen. "Listen to you? Listen to you what? Compliment me, comfort me, hypnotize me until I hear you in my head? No. Not happening."

Zuko threw down his hands and growled in frustration. "Would you listen to yourself and how close-minded you're being!" he snapped, stalking after her.

"_I'm_ being close-minded? Excuse me! My mind has been an open playground to you since I had a damned near-death experience, thank you very much! You've been trespassing!" She gripped a plate tightly in her hands; she originally meant to just inspect it and see if it was still serviceable, but Zuko's presence was infuriating her beyond belief and she slammed it down on the counter when he next spoke.

It exploded in shards everywhere, but neither backed down.

"It isn't trespassing, Katara! It wouldn't have happened if you didn't want it to, somewhere deep down inside you!"

"I'll say it's buried deep down inside," she sneered, reaching for another plate. "Deep down and forgotten for a reason! Get out of my head! I don't want anything to do with you!"

"I don't believe you!" he hollered back at her, his fists bunching at his sides. Ignoring all sense of reason, he goaded her, stoked her temper and his own.

"Well you should!"

"Why? So you can push me away again because you're scared? Because you're afraid of being hurt again by a relationship where you fully trust the other person? That's why you dated Jet, isn't it? Because you knew that if he hurt you, it'd be easier for you to get rid of him!" he pushed on, closing in on her; Katara kept her back to Zuko, unable to turn around to face him. "It would give you an easy excuse to discard the other person; to give yourself an excuse to hold back that last part of your heart that you're unwilling to share with another person. You thought you gave it to Aang, but you didn't; you never shared it with Jet, I know you didn't."

"That's not true! I did love Aang, and I did care about Jet; I was so hurt when Aang left, I lost a piece of myself. And after Jet, I was just so angry-."

"You weren't angry, you were relieved when he was out of your life; and you didn't feel lost, you felt abandoned. There's a difference, Katara. I know. I've felt it before! And I know you remember it now, too!"

"What I remember, or don't remember, or choose to ignore is none of your business. What we had in the past is over, Zuko. I am a new person. I am not held to some relationship that happened over a century ago; I am not just going to fall at your heels and give myself to you because we share a bond—I am not some pawn that is governed by fate's hand! I am an individual, I make my own decisions, _and I choose to not love you_!"

She was panting from her vehemence, and had finally whirled around to look at him, the blue scarf around her neck shifting, and frustration leaking from every pore in her body.

Well, frustration and fear.

She was confused, he noted.

Strangely, that gave him hope—and a foothold.

"If I can show you you felt something for me, during your modern life, would you listen to me, then?" he said dangerously quiet, grasping onto her words.

Katara threw up her hands in frustration, and decided to try another tactic.

"Zuko, I mean it, it just wouldn't work… look at us, we can't even speak civilly to each other," she tried, and he wisely chose not to counter-argue with the fact that he wasn't the one being an irrational, hormonal bitch with a fear of commitment.

"Yes, we can. But right now, you just let what Jet said this morning get to you," he replied imperiously. "You're letting him win? After what he did to you? I know you feel for me, Katara; I've felt it. What you had with Jet, even before you left for the Tribe, doesn't compare to what we have between us. If you give me a chance, I can show you how much-"

And then, he saw her cheeks flush and her blue eyes spark.

"You can 'show me', huh? Just like you showed the girl in the backseat of your car?"

His eyes darkened. "Katara," he began, wanting to explain, but she shook her head.

"Oh no, how about all those 'meetings' and 'appointments' you have? All the time? With women in the middle of the night? You know, where you leave really stressed out, and come back really relaxed?"

"Katara, it isn't what you think," he tried again, his anger rising. Spirits, she could be so stubborn and infuriating!

"Right, of course not, and it's for an entirely different reason that you go to The Bomber, right, on its busiest nights? Chatting girls up? Obviously just for idle conversation, you know," she said sarcastically.

"I can explain why I talk to them, if you'd just-."

"Did you think I was blind, Zuko? Do you think I didn't know what you were doing? Do you take me for some kind of naïve idiot?"

"Katara, you mean everything to me! Please, just let me explain! I don't intend to treat you like-."

"Like what? Like one of 'those girls'?" she said flippantly, her fingers closing in on another plate. Oh dear, she really wasn't making much progress with her cleansing anymore.

"NO!" he exploded, ripping at his own hair in frustration. "Katara, listen to me: the reason I go after those girls is because I'm a vampire! Ok? Are you listening_? I am a vampire_—I need to drink blood regularly, or I go crazy, and I lose control, and I already hurt you before because I let myself run on empty too long when I was trying to stay away from other women because I was so in love with you I couldn't reconcile being with other women or even keeping myself well-fed from another person's life-blood and so I ended up hurting you, and that's what led you to leave with that scum-sucking bag of shit Jet, and I've felt so incredibly fucking guilty ever since, like it was all my fault all over again that you got hurt,_ because it was_, and I just want you to know I love you! I love you so much I don't know what to do anymore, or how to live, or how to get you to understand that I can't live without you anymore!" he exclaimed.

"I can't make it through my day without thinking of you, or wanting to help you, or wishing there was just some way to make everything better! Because I _love_ you, but you _hate_ me, and I'm a vampire, and I'm stuck, just STUCK between being a vampire and needing to drink human blood, and wanting to just spend the rest of our lives, every single moment, together with you!" he cried out wildly, waving his arms and pacing and not even realizing his intended audience had dropped the plate onto the counter with a loud wobble, and was staring at him in astonishment.

As such, he missed the way her expression softened, the way her anger drained, the way tenderness crept across her features and into her heart at his words. It was gradual, and bordered on painful, but his tone, his honesty, his _earnestness_ made its way through to her, and Katara lowered her hands to the counter, and even took a step towards him, a hand outstretched to reach for him.

"I want to stay with you, Katara; I want to protect you; I want to be able to leave everything else behind and just… be together."

"Zuko…"

And then, still blind to her concession and advance, Zuko messed it up by continuing.

"So could you please stop acting like one of those other annoying girls and just listen to me?"

He almost didn't dodge the plate she whipped at his head the next moment.

"-uck you, I hope you die!"

"What the Hell! I just told you I loved you!" he exclaimed incredulously.

Another smash, this time closer to his feet, resounded and sent shards of dinnerware rebounding off his shoes.

"No, you just compared me to one of your fucking ho's!"

"Katara!"

"Argh!" The young woman launched another barrage, of cutlery this time, at his body.

"Are you crazy? That nearly stabbed me!" Not that it would do any permanent damage to him, but it was the principle of the matter; they couldn't base a solid relationship on repeated attempts of spousal homicide. It just wasn't done-.

"_Good!"_

-Especially so enthusiastically.

* * *

Another dish whipped across the room, smashing into the wall just to the right of his head with a storm of shattered porcelain. The lightning outside the darkened windows brightened the room at the same time, and a second later, a loud boom of thunder shook the pair of snarling occupants.

Neither noticed.

"Of course not, why would it be important? I'm just 'some girl' right? I'm certainly not of any consequence to _you_!" The effort of hurling plate number four at the offending man's neck added a certain amount of emphasis on the last word.

"See this, this is why I didn't tell you! You're going crazy," he argued, dodging the projectiles easily.

"Oh no you don't, don't you dare put this back on _me_, mister!"

"I was trying to protect you!"

"Protect this, you lying hippopig!"

A glass splintered a cabinet door.

"Would you listen to yourself?" this time, he caught the plate in mid-flight. "Katara? _Katara!_"

It took Katara a second to realize it – she'd already launched another kitchen standard at him in the meantime, a coffee maker – and then she saw him catch the second, the blender, just as effortlessly. Her eyebrows furrowed slightly, though her anger remained. _How had he_done_that? Must not be throwing 'em hard enough,_she decided, ready to redouble her efforts.

Then her eyes went from the coffee maker in his one hand, to the ridiculously heavy blender… food processor, actually… in his other.

_What the…_

It had taken all her might to launch them at him… and he was standing there as if she'd just tossed him a couple of tennis balls? He was better than she thought if he could catch them so easily.

Her chest heaved with the effort of controlling her temper and racing heartbeat. She'd completely lost track of time when they'd started into their argument… But what had he meant, a minute ago?

_I was trying to protect you._

Curiosity warred with pride.

She clenched her fist around the knife block. One good shot at his heart, that's all she needed. The jerk deserved a good beating, keel haul, and flaying- but she'd settle for murder.

For his part, Zuko stood, waiting tensely a short distance away, but patiently.

And very, very, handsomely.

_Damnit all to Hell…_

Taking a deep, calming breath and letting it out slowly, she glared at him.

He glared back.

_... protect you..._

Curiosity won.

"What… do you mean?"

She lowered her arms and weapons as she spoke, and wondered what she'd do if she were to actually believe him. What would happen… what would happen to… She kept her eyes on him.

He waited before answering, his own eyes lowering away from her a moment. She felt her heart tighten. _He couldn't have been…_ There's no way he could have been telling her…

"What did you mean, 'protect me'?" she asked, more forcefully. Putting a meagre amount of trust in him – and herself, considering how violent she'd been a minute before – she stepped towards him, stopping less than a meter from his angry stance. Her feet made a tinkling, crunching noise as she crossed the ruined linoleum. The victims of her aggressive tantrum littered the entire room in a dangerous mess.

The storm continued outside, not yet ready to follow their tempering example.

Zuko's shoulders, so straight all the time with purpose and pride, lost their squared edges for a moment as he exhaled lowly. To Katara, he looked… tired. Still tense, as though he were controlling some unseen force within himself that threatened to break free and take over, but… worn, somehow, too. Her heart pulled to him, sympathising minutely, before returning to the protective cage of her chest.

This wasn't one of their comfortable silences, she knew it; but she didn't know if she was ready for it to end with an answer yet, either. The things he'd said to her, the way he'd said them…Unease snaked through her belly, and she finally started putting some consideration into his confession - the trigger that had set off the tableware massacre.

While she reflected, topaz eyes flicked over her dishevelled, wavy hair, her flushed face…. All the way down to her smooth, graceful neck where her pulse beat visibly.

And stayed.

She noticed the movement of his gaze. And its focus.

Her heartbeat ratcheted back up again, though not in anger this time.

He swallowed very slightly, but she didn't miss it. His mouth tightened, and he placed the appliances on the counter without a sound before turning back to her.

_He knows._

The crunching noise was very soft, but it was loud enough to signal the first steps of her retreat. She could smell her own blood from her feet, cut and scratched from the glass shards everywhere.

His eyes never left her, and the corner of his mouth curled upwards.

For the first time, she noticed the slight indentation… and what it truly meant.

He hadn't been lying.

_Oh… my… spirits…_

Fear, icy cold, sprang from her stomach and flooded her every sense when his hungry eyes met hers. And stayed.

Her heartbeat stopped when he leapt at her.

* * *

_**TBC.**_

_**AN: FINALLY. It only took me 4 years.**_

_**Also, please thank Sharkflip for her generous contributions for this chapter—I'm sure you can tell exactly which places those are. ;) Please send her a quick PM to thank her for her assistance and greatness!**_

_(Also… I try not to beg for reviews usually, but since this moment in the story was a long time in coming, could you please let me know what you thought by leaving a comment? Thanks!)_


	41. Chapter 41

**Merits 41  
**

* * *

While she reflected, topaz eyes flicked over her dishevelled, wavy hair, her flushed face…. All the way down to her smooth, graceful neck where her pulse beat visibly.

And stayed.

She noticed the movement of his gaze and its focus.

Her heartbeat ratcheted back up again, though not in anger this time.

He swallowed very slightly, unnoticeable if she hadn't been watching for it, but with her full attention on him she didn't miss it. His mouth tightened, and he placed the remaining appliances he held on the counter without a sound before turning back to her.

_He knows._

The crunching noise underfoot was very soft, but it was loud enough to signal the first steps of her retreat. She could smell her own blood from her soles, cut and scratched from the glass shards everywhere.

His eyes never left her, and the corner of his mouth curled upwards.

For the first time, she noticed the slight indentation at the edge of his lips … and what it truly meant.

He hadn't been lying.

_Oh… my… spirits…_

Fear, icy cold, sprang from her stomach and flooded her every sense when his hungry eyes met hers. And stayed.

Her heartbeat stopped when he leapt at her.

* * *

Katara's heart lodged in her throat as she felt herself encased in an inescapable prison—swept up off her feet, strong arms lifting her behind her back and from beneath her knees. Before she knew it she'd been rescued from the shards and shrapnel that littered her floor and cut through the soles of her feet.

When he saw her mouth opening to chastise him again Zuko sighed tiredly, and said only, "You're bleeding," as if those two words explained everything. With that the muscles of his shoulders bunched under her fingers a bit (though she couldn't remember putting her arms around him) and he carried her delicately to the bathroom to set her on the side of the tub; neither commented on the fact she'd instinctively grabbed hold of him when he'd picked her up. The almost-smile that had been hinted at the corners of his mouth had retreated again, leaving a thinned pair of lips that were now edging closer towards a frown.

"Was the plumbing fixed?"

Katara tried the tap. "Looks like."

"Hold yourself steady on the bathtub," he sighed, and helped her manoeuver herself so she could clean her cuts.

For a few minutes neither spoke, and the only sound was the lightly running water that rinsed Katara's blood down the drain.

"If… if you're really a vampire, you must think this is a waste, huh?"

He shook his head. "Me being a vampire has nothing to do with how upset I am that you are bleeding; it is entirely to do with how I feel about you," he replied in his quiet, tired voice.

Uncomfortable, Katara stared at the water, unable to look at Zuko.

"You're all about the talking and the feelings tonight. How many weeks did you spend ignoring me and getting under my skin at work? That hurt my feelings. I like getting to know people. And now I'm hurt all over again, physically, like I was right before we met. It feels like some kind of cycle."

"I never wanted to see you hurt. When we met at your office, there are reasons why I was so… distant. I can explain later, if you want." He watched Katara as she winced as a particularly large shard of glass dislodged from her foot, and his frown deepened in sympathy. "If you were more in touch with your original self, you would be able to use this water to heal yourself. I wish I could help you remember how to do that," he said quietly. "But I never understood how exactly it was you did it, so I can't teach you."

"I probably can't do any of that old magic, anyway. I'm not a priestess this time 'round," she muttered.

Zuko eyed her carefully, noting she didn't deny her past life; he wondered about her regard to their shared past. She proceeded to ignore him.

He continued watching her and she huffed a bit in frustration.

"Why are you here, Zuko?" she asked, changing tactics.

"You know why I'm here."

"No, I mean besides the loving confessions and heart to heart. I don't just mean tonight. I'm not an idiot. Everyone else has been preoccupied and distracted for weeks, thinking I've been too wrapped up in my own problems to notice. But I have; and I want to know what's going on. Jet coming into my life, you coming into my life, Toph rising to superstardom, my past lives coming back to me, and me suddenly being whisked away from stalkers by fan-wielding super-ninjas, _my freaking apartment blowing up!" _she screamed the last before taking a calming breath and finally turning to look at him directly. Her gaze shone bright and her voice turned hard._ "_There is something going on, and I want to know what!"

Zuko's hand on her back—she'd completely forgotten he'd been helping her keep her balance—went still and impersonal, and she knew she'd hit a vein.

"Tell me what you know," she said, holding his gaze.

"If you think back hard enough, you already know," he replied evenly.

Her eyes narrowed, and unconsciously she made a fist; at her side, the bathwater level rose slowly, as if someone had just dropped a plug into the drain. But the rubber stopper still sat where it always did, on the side of the tub.

"Don't give me the runaround tonight, Zuko," Katara said lowly. "I have had enough of everyone manipulating me and what I can and cannot remember."

The water rose higher, swirling now and occasionally sloshing against the sides of the tub.

Frustrated himself, Zuko stared at her. "And I'm telling you the truth – you already know. A part of you remembers; it's why you're so scared and confused and feel like something's after you!"

The water swirled higher, and now hit high and hard enough against the tub to splash onto Katara's legs, though she didn't notice.

"_You_ were after me!"

"I told you, I've been trying to protect you!"

"But you never told me from what!"

"Because you wouldn't listen to me," he half-moaned, exasperated. "I know you don't like or trust me, and that you're afraid of me, Katara. But I am honestly trying to help. I am trying to do the right thing. It isn't easy, it has never been easy, and it gets harder and harder every time I screw up. Integrity is one of the hardest things to practice in real life. But even harder is admitting you've made a mistake. I admit, I made a mistake. A long, long time ago, and more recently again. And again. I keep making them. And always, you were the one who paid for it. I am trying to make things right, and trying to protect you now, but I'm begging you, please, _please_, listen to me and work with me."

The waters continued swirling another moment or two before calming, and slowly beginning to drain away once more down the pipes.

Again, the water's flow was the only sound in the silence.

Giving in to his emotional exhaustion, Zuko sat down on the side of the tub with Katara, but with some distance between them. Hi shoulders slumped and he lifted his hands to run down his tired face.

After a few more moments, he spoke quietly, calmly.

"A very long time ago, before I ever met you, my uncle spoke to me. He was always like a second father to me, though I never appreciated it, or him, until long after he'd gone…"

There was a great deal of time and reflection in his tone, and Katara forced herself to simmer down, regain her composure and listen to him. At that moment, she realised, Zuko was sharing something personal and private and important about himself, and honestly trying to explain himself to her. Wasn't that what she'd wanted? What she'd asked for, an explanation? Yes, she wanted to hurt him—so very much. But it was out of anger and confusion. She had a feeling that there was a lot of anger and confusion in his background, too, suddenly.

She wondered if it was his uncle—_Iroh_, the name suddenly sprang to her mind—who had helped him overcome his issues…

A ghost of a grin appeared on Zuko's lips for a moment, remembering something funny from his past. "Uncle always spoke in what we now call cliché's and proverbs and things like that. I always found it annoying, but there was one that stuck out in my head that came back to me after I lost you the first time. I think it was so prominent in my mind because of how fiercely I denied any of its application towards me, when I first heard Uncle use it. Looking back, I only refuted it so strongly exactly because it resonated with me so personally," he admitted ruefully.

"What did he say?" asked Katara.

"He said he'd once heard of a human scholar who wrote great treatises on human behaviour. Now, you need to remember that we vampires didn't exactly like being compared to humans. Vampires always considered themselves above humans; especially those of the noble classes. They considered themselves above other vampires, too."

"Right, humans are bottom-dwellers, got it," waved off Katara with a roll of her eyes. "But what did he say specifically."

Zuko laced his long, slender fingers together and stared at them, his shaggy dark hair falling loosely across his shoulders.

Katara found she had to hold her own hands back from wanting to brush it out of his face. She clenched her teeth together tightly a moment, wondering where the urge to do so had come from.

"He mentioned there was a very memorable quote that he thought vampires should take more to heart. In its most basic form, _"Don't waste your time trying to get others to recognise your own merits; recognize others for theirs."_ But when I heard it, it sounded blasphemous; vampire society is built upon reputation and standing. Everyone vied for recognition and the royals were the worst of the lot. I thought it was a ridiculous idiom at the time... I didn't realise how right he was until just around a century and a half ago."

Considering his words, Katara slowly turned off the water to the tub. If she was understanding him correctly, he'd given up the ideals that had been instilled in him since birth after something had happened to him. Something huge; something that had entirely changed his world view.

What on earth could have done that to a vampire prince? A vampire among vampires?

Stumped, she shook her head and looked at him, curious.

"So what made you reconsider? If this went against the very foundation of your entire society, your perfect vampire prince upbringing, what could have possibly made you reject that mentality and reality, and supplant it with a human 'idiom'?"

It was then he turned back to her, with such clarity in his expression that it made Katara feel a bit silly for not having put it together sooner. His eyes rested on the necklace at her throat.

Her betrothal necklace. His betrothal necklace.

His touch met the warm, hand-carved stone that rested in the divet of her throat where it met her collarbone, and it was feather-soft, like the kiss he leaned forward to press against her lips.

Pulling back just enough to meet her dawning gaze, Zuko's amber eyes gentled, and very quietly, he said,

"You."

* * *

**TBC.**

AN: Not officially off hiatus yet, but once my studio's moved to its new location, I'll have access to my notes/timeline again. Luv to you all. I welcome your flames for my epic update-failure. : )

Updated: September 9, 2012.


	42. Chapter 42

**Merits 42**

* * *

"So what made you reconsider? If this went against the very foundation of your entire society, the precepts of your imperial vampire upbringing, what could have possibly made you reject that mentality and reality, and supplant it with a human 'idiom'?" Katara inquired, watching him. "It seems... a stretch," she added.

It was then Zuko turned back to her, with such clarity in his haunted, focused expression that it made Katara feel a bit silly for not having put it together sooner. His amber eyes rested on the necklace at her throat.

Her betrothal necklace. _His_ betrothal necklace.

His touch met the warm, hand-carved stone that rested in the divot of her throat where it met her collarbone, and it was feather-soft, like the kiss he leaned forward to press against her lips.

Pulling back just enough to meet her dawning gaze, Zuko's amber eyes gentled, and very quietly, he said,

"You."

* * *

Zuko carried her like the most precious treasure back to Katara's living room, and after setting his coat down atop the cushions of her sofa, sat down with her across his lap.

She turned to look at him, her head lifting from its spot on his shoulder to meet his eyes.

"Your eyes are still as direct as ever," he remarked, taking one of her feet in his large hands and dabbing it with a towel carefully, drawing away the water and minding the cuts and scratches on their tender undersides. He felt a pull towards her, a peace and a longing, but alongside that was a contentedness he relished and basked in. "Do you have time to talk, _really_ talk, Katara?" he asked softly, tentatively. "I know we have a lot between us, and I know it will take time… If this is too much right now, we can just make a plan, or a schedule, or pencil in coffee somewhere together to just…"

His words faltered as he fell under her patient, knowing gaze.

"Please say something, Katara."

She took a breath, and broke their gaze to look down at her toes, wiggling them slightly for a second.

The room was still and quiet, and her shoulders relaxed when she sighed, rolled her head back on his shoulder and quirked an eyebrow up at him.

"You'd really keep waiting, until I was ready?"

His fingers remained gentle, and it was his shoulders which drooped next, his small nod of acknowledgement, of acceptance, of submission. He looked down at her toes, curling his hand around them to keep them warm, sheltered from the drafts that permeated the apartment.

"Yes."

Minutes passed in contemplation as they guarded their thoughts.

_How long?_

Katara's voice was quiet in his mind—but it was there. She was there. She had voluntarily approached him for the first time since she's realised who he was.

He tried to stifle the shimmy that ran down his spine at her delicate reintroduction to his mind.

Swallowing, controlling his urge to enfold her in his arms, his emotions, his love, his eyes fluttered shut for a second as he collected his composure.

Sure of himself once more, he raised his eyes back to hers again.

_In case it isn't obvious,_ he began, a hint of rueful self-flagellation in his tone, _I would wait forever for you, Katara. My love remains the same._

A small tug at the corners of his mouth, the loosening of the tension around his mouth and eyes, the sadness that lifted his brows, he revealed them to her. Peeled back a layer at a time, gauging her reaction through their bond.

_This talk… It will take a while, won't it? _she broached, her hands folding together; her fingers twisted, betraying the uncertainty that rippled beneath her calm exterior.

_To do it right—and I do want to do it right, do everything right, this time with you—yes._ It… Zuko considered his words, trying not to overwhelm her with too much at once, too much of _himself_ at once. _There's so much to tell you. I want you to know everything, this time. I want to be open with you, about what happened then, and what's happening now. I want us to be equals in this life. Together._

_After I lost you in the time of your Tribe, Katara, I… _

He swallowed again, resulting in a pause in his mental confession.

_You can stop me anytime if you want to interrupt,_ he added, embarrassed he was dominating their 'conversation'.

Katara smiled hesitantly back at him, before slowly separating her knotted fingers and with a small catch of sound from her throat, hesitantly raised her hand to touch his cheek, making him face her fully.

_Then… will you give me time to call Toph, to let her know that I'll be… _She bit her lip again, conflicted, and her brow furrowed.

… _home late? _Zuko offered, trying not to push her, to move at her pace.

… _home tomorrow, _Katara decided. _Or maybe…_

Something internal bothered her, something she didn't share with him, and she huffed.

_Eff. Let's just _try_, and see where things go. I'll return when I'm ready. For now..._

His golden eyes widened almost comically at that, and she couldn't help the grin that spread across her face.

_Let's start with that coffee, shall we?_ She said, her eyes shining at him.

_Coffee is good,_ he replied dumbly after a moment. And then hope exploded in his chest as his hands moved from her feet to surround her, engulfing her.

Interest, determination, courage drew him to her, but instead of a kiss, he simply lay his forehead against hers and closed his eyes. Shoulders slumping, gathering her in his arms, he held her to his heart as relief pumped through his veins.

He had a chance.

He would not repeat the mistakes of his past.

* * *

**TBC.**

AN: NaNo 2012 has started; thank you for your patience. : )  
AN2, son of AN: Kudos to those who catch the music ref/inspiration for this chap! (Hint: Think Gavin Rossdale)


	43. Chapter 43

**Merits 43**

"How did you find me?"

Zuko, his hand still wrapped in Katara's beautiful cinnamon hair, watched her lips move and decided he hadn't been happier or more peaceful in a lifetime—or possibly longer. They had nipped out to the nearest coffee shop they could find and returned to Zuko's home with the steaming cups and a slightly less-awkward silence between them. Now, Katara sat stretched out on his couch, her body leaning against his side. Warmth spread outward, pleasant and comforting.

He took his time considering his answer, and released her hair so she could lean back to look at him.

"When two people are soul-bonded, or soulmates," he began thoughtfully, tilting his head back against the leather couch, "There are special connections between them: The way we can sense or speak to each other, our awareness of each other's emotional state, the way we can sense if one or the other is in danger or pain, things like that.

"When you were re-born, and started regaining your memory, your bond was a bit like a flare that called out to mine. I'd always kept looking for you through the years, but when you became more… in touch with your spiritual self… I think that's when your old soul started leaking through your current personality. And started looking for me."

"And it called you all the way to Ba Sing Se University, specifically?" she asked, eyebrow quirked.

"All the way to the front door of your apartment where you were attacked; you fought like a tiger, by the way. It was impressive," he smirked back, his eyes gentle and knowing. "I'd been in the area for some time, but there was something that spiked that night and it was like a homing beacon. I couldn't keep myself away."

Recognition sparked in her mind. Katara's head tilted further back to regard Zuko with some confusion. "Attacked?"

He nodded once. "Yes. Several men attacked you; you were injured; I disposed of them and returned you to your apartment, and made sure you arrived safely at work the next morning."

Her eyes widened in understanding. "I thought that was a dream! I thought Jet had drugged me, and that I'd imagined everything… wait… Is that when you took my scarf?"

A flush of guilt stole across his cheeks, and again, he nodded, looking off to the side. "… I don't suppose you'd appreciate how much I needed reassurance I wasn't dreaming or having hallucinations?...That you really were… you?"

"The scarf was proof I was real and not imaginary," she realised aloud, and Zuko nodded again.

"Yes."

She continued looking at him, reveling in his nearness and how peaceful it was to simply be together, talking. A part of herself which had always felt anxious was strangely calm, soothed, just sitting with him on a couch in a quiet room. Connected.

"Did you hallucinate often? Or confuse me with other girls?"

He squeezed her closer and adjusted their positions slightly, making them more comfortable.

"When a vampire and his or her mate are separated for long periods of time, it can have negative effects on the vampire," he tried to explain.

"Like?" she prodded, tugging on his sleeve, eager to know more.

Letting out a sigh, his features tightened and he closed his eyes as if remembering a painful memory.

"An example: My mother left. Disappeared. Vanished." The words were clipped, flat. "I was never told the full story. I'm not sure if she's alive or dead, imprisoned, abandoned, exiled…"

He blew out heavily for a moment, getting himself back on track. Katara squeezed his hand gently in support, waiting.

"My father never stopped looking for her, loving her. But after a few centuries, he began to go mad; eventually he put himself in a kind of hibernation, or enchanted sleep, I guess you could say. He still left orders for regular scouts to go out searching for my mother, but the separation from her unbalanced him. He'd always thought that getting control of the Moon Spirit would give him the edge he needed to find her again; having a Spirit who controlled life would grant him the power he needed to sense her—or so he thought," his body tense, his words terse, Zuko almost muttered the last. "He thought that the Moon Spirit not offering to come help him was an insult to him; he took it personally that a human would not voluntarily sacrifice herself for his mad cause."

"So he sent you to look for me, to bring me back to him… to look for her? But I have no way of doing that," said Katara, bemused. She sighed and leaned back against the couch, thoughtful. "Not that I'm aware of currently, anyway."

"That's what I mean—it didn't matter that you couldn't. He thought you could, ergo, he was going to bring you in and make you, or kill you trying. He was obsessed with collecting the one Spirit he knew was bound to the human, Earthly realm. Maybe he knew something I didn't; I was just trying to be a dutiful son." He sighed again, frustrated. "I was so desperate for acknowledgement, so blind…"

Katara's heart ached for Zuko and all he'd lived through.

"A mate helps balance a bonded vampire. I've never heard of vampires bonding with humans—or Spirits—," he added, and appreciated her wry grin. "I don't know much about 'weres or other… uh… groups," he tried diplomatically, trying not to go off on a tangent. "So in short, if one individual is missing, the other notices; the longer the separation or distance, the more distracting. It affects everything in a vampire's life."

Katara nodded. "So your father essentially hermited himself in an enchanted sleep to wait for news of your mother—or my capture. And what then? Give him a shake and welcome him back to the world of the undead?"

Zuko ran a hand through his hair, frustrated again. "I don't know; I think so. I was never told of what would happen specifically once you were… brought back to him."

There was a beat of quiet reflection between them as they were each lost in their own thoughts.

Katara was the first to somewhat recover; with more questions.

"So is that why Suki was protecting me, and why you were following me, and why my apartment was blown up?"

"Uh yeah. In big, twisted, global terms. Sorry about that, by the way. The stalking. I didn't mean to freak you out."

"And the reason you were a jerk to me in my office?"

"It was a bit overwhelming being so close to you again; I wasn't sure how much you remembered, and I wasn't… all there," he admitted quietly. "It had been a very long time; I'd gone into a bit of a predatory mindset, and was itching for a fight to get a reaction out of you and hopefully get your attention so you'd come after me. After I was eating more regularly, and spent more time with you, I realised you hadn't recovered all your memories yet, I tried to back off a bit; of course, you then caught me feeding… so…" he let the sentence hang.

"… so I thought you were a manwhore. Right. The co-eds."

Zuko winced slightly at her frigid tone. Apparently it was still a sore-spot…

He gently rubbed her shoulders to ease her tension. "Toph helped get me in touch with a bloodbank. I have volunteers now who—"

Katara whirled on him, agape.

"TOPH knew you were a vampire!?"

Zuko stilled, observing her body language very carefully.

After a beat, he tried to explain. "Well, she's a witch, and one of the leaders in the uh, 'non-purebred-human' world, so she can sense these things, and—," he began, only to be interrupted again.

"Toph's a WITCH!?"

Brow furrowing, Zuko took a deep breath and mentally braced himself for the oncoming barrage. He could sense Katara's tension and disbelief spiking, her anxiety ratcheting up notch by notch.

"… Yes. Um, well… And Aang's an old-soul. And you already know Jet's a—"

Katara swore colourfully.

"When the Hell did this turn into the _Night World_?!" Katara grabbed the front of his shirt and yanked on him hard enough to bring them nose-to-nose. "What else is going on? Who else is involved? Are there other creatures out there trying to eat me? Do I need to go get garlic-spray? _Are you shitting me here?! Zuko Sozin, what in Hell's nine realms is going on around here!"_

No, he wasn't disappointed; really, this was exactly what he'd wanted. But damn if he didn't feel a tension headache building, and knew it was going to be a really, really long night.

…on the bright side, she was in his lap, tearing off his clothes?

Yanking again on his shirt, Katara managed to bodily move him slightly in her exuberance. "I want answers, Zuko! Start talking!"

* * *

**TBC.**

**AN: More next week. : )  
PS: Hope you enjoyed the LJ Smith ref up there. ;)**


	44. Chapter 44

**AN: To clear up some confusion: Remember that Zuko & Katara can speak to each other non-verbally, through their soul-mate bond... Those are the italicized bits of text. ;)**

**Merits 44**

* * *

It was a long, long night; eventually they shifted to speaking through their bond when their voices would wear out.

Katara snuggled into Zuko's size on his couch with a comforter over them both.

_How long were they looking for her, the Moon Spirit?_

Looking down at her, long fingers curling and teasing tendrils of her hair, Zuko considered before answering.

_Centuries. Remember, a human life is akin to a flickering flame in comparison to a vampire's, and modern transportation is much more efficient than the horses and oxen of old. Sometimes there would be a rumour of a Spirit's return to Earth, and it would take years or decades for the scout to track down that rumour and investigate it. In that time the human-Spirit may have already passed on, leaving the vampires with another dead end. It was a very, very long time before anyone had proof of the Moon Spirit. _

She nodded drowsily._ How old are you?_

He smiled. _You asked me that before, a long, long time ago._

_Oh, that's right… you didn't answer me then, either_, she retorted, faking a peeved expression.

_No. It doesn't matter. I'm—no… __**we're**__ here now. That's what's most important._

Both felt the sheer rightness of the statement, and enjoyed the peace thrumming between them through their connection. It was some time before Katara asked her next question.

_So I am… powerful… as a Spirit?_

He nodded solemnly. _Your humanity, as the only Spirit bound to Earth in rebirth, lends you great strength._

_I can remember so much of my time as Yue; why can't I tap into the Spirit-magic I had before? The healing? The… water-… magic… Water… I'm tied to water. I could control water! _She remembered suddenly, images flashing through her mind and Zuko's. She seized on them, trying to tie them together, to remember just how she had learned before—it seemed to have been instinctual, on some level.

He nodded again, his eyes lighting fiercely. _You're remembering. Do you remember what you called it? _he asked eagerly.

_Water… damnit, what was it… I can sense the intention, the way I used to reach out for it, and bend it to my—bending! __**Water-bending!**_

_That's it!_ he rejoiced. _Remember, Katara. Remember. You're on the right track—you used to will the water to bend to you. You did it in the bathtub, subconsciously. Do you remember that? A little while ago, when we were cleaning your feet? You've healed me before—recently, actually. You healed Jet, too. I think you also did it during your time with your Tribe recently. After you... after your car accident._

The moment stretched, but Katara had made up her mind.

_I want to. I want to try._ She looked deep in his eyes, questions she couldn't form evident there.

_Then let's try. Wait here,_ he said, and went to the kitchen. _Basin?_

_Under the sink,_ she said excitedly, anxiously, nervous, her stomach fluttering as if a fleet of butterflies had started a cage-match inside her.

Zuko found the sink-basin and returned to the couch with it filled with water, setting it on the coffee table which Katara eagerly pulled closer.

In an attempt to reason out her expectations, he rubbed her back and continued speaking intimately. _Don't get frustrated on your first try if you—_

But Katara had wasted no time, already raising her hand over it, her concentration focused, her face tight.

_Bend to me…. Come to me… Come on… Damnit… Water, I call to you….I can feel you, your movement…_

Sweat broke out on her forehead. She closed her eyes a moment, and regulated her breathing. Zuko watched her slip easily into a meditative repose.

_Katara, you can relax, it will happen when it's—_

_Obey me…_ Her inner voice became stronger, more determined, more even.

The first small eddies swirled on the surface, and Katara's smile was grim, determined.

"_Rise,"_ she commanded aloud, and her voice held an authority so ancient Zuko felt the power resonate down his spine.

The eddies became a whirlpool; the whirlpool inverted to a column; the column swirled, currents constantly whirling and feeding in on each other, as it rose to lap at the outstretched palm above it.

Katara's resulting smile held a fierce note of triumph that both warmed and cautioned the vampire prince.

More confident now, Katara looked at the soles of her feet, so damaged.

Then she looked back at the swirling column of water, licking at her palm.

In the next instant, the water enveloped her hand and began to glow like a blue halo.

Zuko's breath caught in his throat.

_So soon?_ he breathed, awestruck.

_I'm getting the hang of this,_ she replied grudgingly.

When she finished, she let the water recede and flipped it back into the basin, taking the last remnants of blood with it.

Her sense of accomplishment resonated between them through the bond, and Zuko felt his heart soar with hers, his pride in her evident.

_I always wished I had your talent,_ he admitted, touching her cheek. _You're amazing._

_You have your own talents,_ she replied automatically, knowing deep down it was true, and felt a fleeting memory pass through her mind—she snatched upon it, and remembered golden eyes, the shark, the woman she fought in the clearing in the past, the way she herself had fought, with the river—

_I can fight with bending,_ she realised, surprised. Then repeated, simply, sincerely:

_**I can fight.**_

His brow furrowing, Zuko tried to regain her focus. _Bending can be used for fighting, but you were always a healer; you only ever fought in self-defence, to protect your Tribe._

_And died for it,_ she said darkly.

_And lived again,_ he amended softly.

She took a deep, heavy breath, and he felt her debating internally, saw the way her brow lined with intense thought and contemplation.

Then she took a deep breath and let it out slowly.

_You don't want me to fight?_ She asked, and her voice was measured, cold.

_I… I want to be able to fight beside you,_ he explained, unsure how to explain the pain, panic, shame, impotence he'd felt when he'd come across her, already bleeding out, lifetimes before. So instead of trying to explain in words, he thought back and pulled the memory out to show her, andhelp her feel. It was the memory that had haunted and tormented and driven him for the past century and a half: Azula standing over her, frozen in ice; blood tainting the snow and the tangy smell of Katara-Yue's sickness poisoning the air; the river rising, rising, rising to wash them away and purify the land again… Scene after scene flew through his memory to hers through their chord, until the sickening bile rose in both their throats. Only then did Zuko block the torrent, both their pulses racing, their emotions slightly ragged around the edges.

_This,_ he said, _is what I want to avoid. I don't want to be alone again. If we go down, we go down together. If we fight, we fight together._

_And when we succeed,_ he vowed, his resolve stronger, his fire brighter as he felt her reconsidering her words, and held her eyes as she watched his face, reached for him,—

—_we succeed together, _he promised fiercely, taking her hand, weaving their fingers together, not letting go.

_Will you fight _with_ me?_ she asked after a minute; and her intonation caught his attention.

_Why would we fight each other?_ He was taken aback by her question.

_Training. I want to control this. I don't want to lose control, or have it control me. The stronger I am, the better my chances. And, more importantly… the better your chances, Zuko._

He felt her anxiety, a low, tremulous thrumming leaking through their bond.

_I don't want you to feel that again_, she admitted softly, and they both understood she was referring to when they had been separated before, for over a century. She broke away and looked at their entwined hands. _How… How did you do it?_

_Do what?_

_Keep going. It was so devastating; the feeling of the bond breaking…_

His smile was sad as he touched her cheek, and their gaze met and held. His fingers trailed across her cheek, tracing the softness, the roundness, before cupping her chin and holding her steady.

_You're worth it,_ he said_. Every minute. I would do it again, if I had to, if it meant you would be safe._

_Don't say things like that,_ she warned, and her anxiety flared. Prickles of unease erupted down her arms and across the back of her neck at his words, and Katara couldn't help a frisson. Premonitions were one thing; challenging the fates—especially with their combined track record—was tantamount to roulette.

He shook his head. _We have the advantage this time, Katara, not them,_ he insisted. _Things are different now._

_How so?_ She asked warily.

He smiled more widely, almost a smirk, and she was enthralled by how handsome he became in that moment, as she was caught up in his confidence and hope. _You'll see._

* * *

While Katara had a potty-break (around three A.M.), Zuko grabbed a small bloodbag from the fridge and stabbed it with a straw, taking a long, replenishing swallow. As he glanced around the corner he pulled his cellphone from his pocket and dialed Toph. She answered on the second ring, music blaring from all around her.

"Hey Man-o-whore, how're things with Katara?"

Toph was grinning. Zuko knew she was. He could just _tell_.

Wincing at the sheer volume of the music in the background and keeping his eyes on the hallway, should Katara need him, Zuko scowled.

"Don't call me that."

"No—I earned the privilege of mocking you, Prince of Sparkles." She was gleeful. The pint-sized troll was gleeful. He hated trolls. Nasty, smelly, trouble-making, immature, juvenile, shit-disturbing…

"And to think I called to give you fair warning," he groused, covering his eyes with the back of his arm.

"Warning for what?" There was a beep on the line before Toph replied, "Oh hold on, I have a call coming in on my other line."

"No, wait, this is import—"

A beep interrupted Zuko, and he muttered and grumbled in frustration.

Changing the volume to speakerphone, he slid the handset on the counter and threw the emptied bag into the garbage, washing his hands at the sink. Opening the fridge he debated the bottle of wine he'd purchased on impulse and had been chilling for the past seventy-three years, and instead pulled out some orange juice for Katara. While the vitamin C would definitely hep him digest and absorb the heme iron from the blood more efficiently, he hated the mixed aftertaste.

"—hello? Oy, you still there?"

He snapped up the phone and its angry voice, switching back to 'earphone'.

"Here," he answered. "So I wanted to tell you that I had to tell Katara—"

"_That I'm a "Hocus Pocus" cast reject?!"_ Toph exploded. "What the Hell, Zuko?"

Staring at the phone he'd pulled away from his suffering eardrum, Zuko stuttered. "How did you—"

"Because she just called me from your bathroom."

Zuko paused.

"Girls really do that?" he asked.

* * *

They argued back and forth about what was considered _Need to Know_, until Toph announced, unconcerned, "By the way, you may want to get back to the couch."

"What do you mean?"

"I'm pretty sure Katara's been waiting for you there for at least five minutes."

Cursing himself, he reached for her through the bond.

_Katara? Are you waiting for me? _He asked. _Were you okay to walk on your own? How are your feet?_

_No rush, I took my time coming back to the couch. Come on over when you're ready._

_Okay… _He felt a warm glow wash over him, and realised it was Katara's happiness at his recognition of her needs. For a moment, he felt a bit goofy, and grinned to himself, basking in her happiness.

The voice still on the phone jarred him from his little haze. "—Zuko? Hey, Zuko? Oy, are you still there? Glitter-gullet, oy!"

Startled, he nearly dropped the phone. "Huh? Yes?"

"… Ugh, never mind, you're only half there. I'll fill you in later," sighed Toph. "Treat her well, you hear?"

"Like gold," he vowed. He could feel Katara's sweet thrill zing through him when she heard him, and his goofy smile widened further. He probably looked a bit daft. He didn't care a whit.

"And no babies until you're married," Toph continued sagely.

Only half-listening, he repeated it without thinking. "Ok, no babies until—_whuh? What the Hell—!"_

When he hung up he couldn't shake the sound of Toph's wild cackling out of his now _other_ damaged eardrum.

* * *

"So, that's a lot of what's been going on—in big, global, general terms," Zuko's voice cracked with the strain of speaking for so long, and he swallowed reflexively when Katara looked at him with sleepy eyes, drooping more than his were.

She nodded and covered her mouth to yawn, snuggling deeper into the couch and his side. Her eyes slid shut as Zuko's words rolled lightly over her, his voice a sweet homecoming in and of itself.

_Keep talking_, she hummed in his psyche.

"Katara?"

_Hmmm? _

She sighed and snuggled closer.

"Are you just resting your eyes or falling asleep?" he asked cautiously.

_Just listening,_ she murmured, as if this was the most logical answer.

"You're not even responding out loud," he gently chided. "Where do you want me to drop you off?"

He sensed her emotions, fleetingly, for half a second through the magic that connected them, and felt himself stirring in response to her… longing?

He dared not hope.

_Katara?_

… _do I have to go yet?_ she asked, her question so whisper-soft he almost missed its delicate edges as it eddied into his awareness like a gentle morning mist.

"I think it would worry everyone less—and they might respect my intentions more—if you were to sleep at either your place, or Toph's condo, or even her family's house."

_That place gave me a complex,_ she groused.

"… I sympathise," he agreed heartily.

_But… I'm getting my bending back, with you; I'm understanding so much, here with you; I'm… I feel like I'm finally coming home, here with you. Zuko. I… You aren't the only who's made mistakes_, she finally admitted, and he knew it was hard for her to confess this. _I need to tell you things, too, and want things back to…_

Her voice trailed off, and they both felt the rueful reverberations—what they'd had before, a long time ago, hadn't been perfect either.

_I want to be with you. I feel right, with you,_ she said instead.

_Me, too,_ he admitted quietly. Helplessness welled within him, though, and he knew they couldn't just block out the world around them.

_But you have a lot of friends who need you, too. I can't hide you away, Katara, _he continued, and tucked a loose lock of hair behind her ear. _No matter how much I want to, I won't take you away from the life you want to lead. I may be a prince, but I need to share you, too,_ he said, smiling sadly.

_But don't mistake that for me not wanting to_, he amended at her adorable pout, his eyes crinkling at how cute she was when she was drifting off to sleep.

"Okay?"

"When this whole end of the world crap is over and done with," she mumbled, "you're totally welcome to kidnap me and escape to a deserted island for a bit. Or a rainforest. Or some forgotten ruins somewhere… I'll be happy to comply."

He chuckled and felt her breathing even out as her head rested on his shoulder.

"I'll do that," he murmured, and kissed her temple.

After some time simply holding her, listening to her calming breathing, he stood and slipped on his shoes, collecting his car keys from the basket by the door to the garage, never letting her go.

"Let's get you to your other home," he whispered sadly, and with her coat clutched in his hand, he drove her to Toph's condo where he slipped her under the covers of her bed, snug as a bug.

"Until tomorrow, Katara," he whispered in her ear with a final kiss on top of her head. He pulled the covers of her bed up to her chin and tucked her in tenderly one final time; reminded himself that no, he was not going to stalk her and watch her from her closet the way he had, three months prior. Things were different now. So wonderfully, beautifully, brightly different.

At least, they were until Katara stirred, sensing him leaving.

"_Thank you, my love,"_ she breathed, and smiled in her sleep.

Zuko felt his heart clutch and staggered to stand, his hands trembling until he shook himself and regained his composure.

Would those words never stop haunting him?

* * *

**TBC.**

AN: If Katara's last words seem familiar, but you can't remember why, you may want to review Chapters 30 and 34. *hint hint!* ;) Also, much love & appreciation for **uchiha.s **for her emergency beta-job on this chapter! (All mistakes are my own, mind you,)

EDIT: Nov 18, 2012: Added small AN to top of page following comment from reader **DazzlingAmethyst**. (Thanks! I hadn't realised it read like a flashback.)

_AN: Another update: Next Friday, November 23, 2012. Thanks! -mm_


	45. Chapter 45

**Merits 45**

* * *

Around 10am that morning, Toph sat with Sokka at the kitchen table of her condo. Across from Toph with a mountain of sandwich stuffings surrounding him and his reports, Sokka went over some of the intel her people had managed to dig up. It had been a stressful week with no sign of letting up anytime soon, and they awaited Suki and Aang before really settling into their meeting. For the time being at least, they were also giving Zuko and Katara some space to get re-acquainted. From what Toph had heard/observed of the newly re-found pair, they were too wrapped up in each other at the moment to take anything else in anyway.

_Ugh, like teenagers,_ she thought to herself with a grumble.

Sure, Zuko had gallantly returned Katara sometime during the night, but Katara had practically raced out the door the following morning to meet him again, where he was waiting downstairs for her at his car. It was kind of adorably, disgustingly cute how the most they did was smile at each other and occasionally cuddle, if she was reading their body language vibes correctly—but then again, she was also kind of relieved that Katara was returning to their place at night, and so obviously taking it easy on the whole 'physical' aspect of their relationship. She and Zuko probably had a lot of issues to work through.

So here Toph was with her ex at the table eating her out of house and home—and not in a way that she got anything out of—and stressed to boot. Bugger.

Not that that stress had stopped Sokka from indulging in a sandwich that would put the Dagwood to shame.

"What I meant was," he mumbled around a bite of the eight-layer monstrosity, continuing their earlier conversation, "how did Long Feng and Jet hook up? Because that's what it sounds like happened. Your spy was sure it was Jet leaving Long Feng's place; and also that it was Long Feng who approached Jet at work, originally."

Toph stared unseeing at the ceiling; her arms flopped out to her sides.

"As far as we've been able to determine—"

"From his work's surveillance footage, which your IT moles were good enough to lift, undetected—"

She waved off his privacy concerns. They had bigger issues to deal with than a little B&E. "Details. From what we saw, it was Long Feng who approached Jet on his coffee break, not the other way around. There's a chance that Jet is, ultimately, misguided but innocent—to a degree," she amended carefully, when she heard Sokka's maw gape open at her.

"Thank you," he said rather pointedly, and took another, angrier, bite of his sandwich. Sokka still hadn't gotten over Jet's behaviour towards Katara, and had a bone or two to pick.

"But I still don't like it. Jet's just… He's too tenacious. If he were just a hired thug, he wouldn't have taken this so personally. He would have abandoned ship long before now," Toph mused aloud. "Why is he so attached to Katara?"

"He's a werewolf—do they have soulmates?" Suki asked, coming through the door, Aang neatly behind her. "The way Zuko fawns all over Katara now, you can see they're deeply connected. I admit, the way Jet used to dote all over Katara was pretty similar… Could he be mistaking Katara for someone from his past? Could he have been reincarnated, like Katara or Aang?"

"Werewolves from our Tribe's lore were connected to the Moon Spirit, and there were, uh, relationships between them; but not exactly soulmate bonds… at least as far as I know. Katara's better with our legends than I was," Sokka said around a mouthful of food. "Other tribes may have had their own lore, though."

"So what tribe is Jet possibly from?" asked Toph, hypothetically speaking. "He was a grey or white wolf, wasn't he?" she asked, and waved at Sokka who was already going back through the notes her surveillance team had provided them.

Then he stopped.

"This is impossible," he mumbled, flipping through the pages and then typing madly on the laptop at his elbow. "There's no way…"

"What?" asked Toph, not liking his tone. The hair on the back of her neck rose in warning, and suddenly a headache exploded through her; she threw her arms ahead of her to stop herself from smashing into the table, groaning in pain and swearing like a sailor.

"—Toph? Toph, speak to me, this is Aang. What's going on? What are you seeing?"

His voice was fuzzy and she felt her head being squeezed tight in a vice as a vision resurfaced, one she'd had weeks before, but more brilliantly now, colours taking on new vibrancy and meaning.

_Jet, Zuko, Katara. Jet and Zuko's eyes being the same. Katara being hurt. Zuko being completely focused on Katara as she healed the two men—it was at Zuko's home,_ she realised somehow, just prior to Katara and Jet returning to the Tribe—_what was the meaning? Why was she seeing this again now?_

_Damnit all to Hell, where were her pills?_

Huffing deeply to try and ease the pain, Toph clenched her teeth and felt a gentle touch to her third eye.

"Don't touch me," she growled, but the hand remained where it was and she suddenly realised what Aang was about to do. "No!" she shouted, "No, no, Aang, don't, you stupid—"

He ignored her, closed his eyes, and opened the channel.

She screamed again as the pain flared, and then fell forward as the pressure instantly surged then withdrew, like flood waters overwhelming a dam, leaving behind only a dull ache.

Her shoulder slumped and she let out a long, low breath. "Draining me of my magical ability is not helping me right now," she growled at him, but was too tired to make it as threatening as she'd normally like.

"You need to find better ways of managing the side-effects," Aang said solemnly, and rubbed at his own head. "Still packs a wallop," he remarked resentfully.

She snorted. "Light weight."

Aang chuckled quietly, and then murmured something in a long-forgotten language, gently running his finger down Toph's forehead once more; she grunted in relief before swatting away at his hand.

"Show off," she muttered, but the tone was grateful.

"Martyr," he retorted with a grin. This made her snort louder.

"Well, if we're all done being all _magically gifted_," sang Sokka mock-cheerfully—the magic-thing still took a bit of getting used to. "It might interest you to note that Jet's particular breed of wolf became extinct around 1911-1912. They never survived in captivity."

"You mean…" pieces started flying together in Toph's mind, but Suki made the connection aloud first.

"They weren't able to change," realised Suki in horror. The others looked at her curiously, and she gestured animatedly with her hands as she explained. "Oh Spirits, they would have gone insane remaining in their wolf form in front of humans like spectacles…"

The Maiden in their midst closed her unseeing eyes at the implications. It wasn't to tune anything out. It was in sympathy. Hiding one's true self… The shame, the impotence, of knowing how much more you were, but having to constantly hold back.

Grim, indeed. Well, it was another path to explore, but they shouldn't get ahead of themselves 'solving' this until they had more to go on, which meant refocusing everyone again in the kitchen…

_But just a second—had Sokka just said 1912?_

"Whoa—I think we're missing the main point here," grumbled Toph, trying to stay on-task around the ache in her skull. "What Sokka's saying is that Jet's wolf-pack died out over a hundred years ago. Am I right? Of course I am. So where did Jet come from? I thought 'weres had lifespans comparable to humans. They aren't part of the immortal club."

"No, that's reserved for vampires, their linked reavers, and a few other groups," Suki agreed, but suddenly Toph remembered the vision again; _flashes of colours, people, gazes—_

"What colour are Zuko's eyes, normally?" Toph demanded around a wince. Feeling the warmth of Aang's hand approaching her head again, she slapped it away before it could connect, ignoring his chuckle.

"Gold," replied Aang immediately, not taking offense.

"All vampire nobility have gold eyes, it's a very particular shade and limited to those of the immediate Sozin lineage," added Suki. The others looked at her. "Part of our 'Know Your Opponent' quiz during orientation week at Slayer Camp," she explained.

"What colour are a 'were's eyes, like Jet's eyes?" asked Aang, unable to remember off the top of his head.

"'_Dark chocolate brown, like a steaming cup of half coffee, half hot cocoa',"_ read Sokka slowly, turning away from his papers. He noticed the others watching him silently and suddenly took in his own words.

"It's in Haru's reports!" he exclaimed defensively, shaking the papers at them; then he turned back to his ex, who normally would have been sniggering but was instead fairly quiet. A quiet Toph was a worrisome one.

"What are you getting at, Toph?"

"Jet's eyes," she said, realization dawning. "His eyes change colour. His eyes can be gold, too—the same gold as Zuko's eyes. I saw it. That's what my vision was about. It was showing me that Jet's eyes change. Somewhere, somehow, Jet has a connection to the vampire royal line."

"But we know Jet's a 'were—so what does that mean?"

"What colour are Long Feng's eyes," Toph asked Suki, and Suki shook her head.

"Wrong colour, not the Imperial Gold," she said apologetically.

"So Long Feng couldn't influence him, not through thrall. We're missing a piece," Toph growled, her hands tightening to fists. She hit the table, hard, and clenched her teeth. "What part are we missing?"

They were silent a moment, and Toph felt her tension mounting.

"OK, wait a second. Let's make a list," suggested Aang, and he rubbed Toph's back. She snarled at him under her breath, but allowed it. It was actually helping. As his firm, gentle hands ministered to her back, working out the knots, he addressed their team.

"We need to figure out how and why Jet's eyes change colour. I don't think Toph's vision is random; she's had it several times now. The Spirits are trying to show us something important, to save one of their own, if I don't miss my guess."

The others nodded, and looked at him.

"What do we know about Jet?"

"Loose employment record. Moved around a lot. Criminal record..." Suki pulled a report from Sokka's organised piles, summarizing the first page or so.

"Going back how far?" Aang asked meaningfully.

The others paused.

_Extinct in 1912… _it was on all their minds, now.

"That's what we need to find out," said Aang, and the others nodded at him in agreement.

"Also, we know he's that type of extinct wolf, right? We need to investigate where and when they became extinct and why. Maybe he had an ancestor that snuck out and managed to live under the radar. Let's see what the connection is between the Jet-wolf of today and the packs of a hundred years ago. Somewhere in there, there's vampire or some other kind of immortal blood that got mixed in. We need to trace that, and from there, hopefully we'll figure out why Jet's so interested in Katara and the Moon Spirit.

"Long Feng is one of The Five—he's one of the most dangerous vampires in the world, and he wouldn't have left the enclave without a reason. He wouldn't be using a werewolf to do his dirty work, either—he has minions for that," added Aang. "At least, if I understand correctly what Suki told us before. We know they're trying to get Katara; but they wouldn't involve a no-name werewolf for that."

Suki nodded. "Jet's the wildcard; whether he's using them or being used—we can't discount him. We know Zuko was originally sent to get Yue-Katara; and he was sent out again to keep looking for her, after he was banished. There shouldn't be others out looking for her at the moment; unless Long Feng really is trying to stop him from regaining his original position… Ugh, too many paths, they're all convoluted," her face pinched and she reviewed the reports surrounding them like the encroaching troops of an invading army. "We need to decide on a focus-point, or we're going to spread ourselves too thin investigating everything. Toph has her minions doing as much as they can, digging through archives and lore-bearers who specialise in vamps to try and track down the other members of The Five. What are we going to narrow down?"

"Let's track Jet's tracks," decided Sokka and he typed, sending messages to Toph's 'people', keys tapping rapidly on the laptop. "We'll give them a few days, and hopefully we'll have more answers then. We weren't looking at him as a serious player before. But there's too much not adding up; my gut feeling is there's a piece missing, like you said, Toph." He looked around at them, gauging their expressions. "After that, we'll pull in Zuko and Katara, let them know what we've found, and see if they have any more ideas. It would be useless to bring them in at the moment with them being so distracted, though."

The others nodded grimly. Sokka picked at his sandwich, and Toph lifted her head from the table, finally.

"Anything else?" asked Aang, still rubbing Toph's back; until she elbowed him roughly.

Then she perked up and smiled maliciously.

"Who wants to be the one to talk to Zuko about curfews?" Toph tapped her foot after a brief pause when no one volunteered. "I am SO not putting up with him dropping Katara off at 5am every morning, no matter how gentlemanly he's trying to be. My wards scream bloody murder whenever he crosses them. Mofo immortals."

Sokka and Aang's eyes flew wide as they jumped back from the table.

"Not I!"

"Not I!"

"Oh bugger," muttered Suki, crossing her arms resignedly. "Outdone by an old soul and a… genius," she corrected at Sokka's expecting-to-be-wounded look. "Why does the Slayer get stuck with giving a vampire prince The Walk of Shame talk?"

Aang snickered and waggled his eyebrows. "Since he's a prince—doesn't that make it a _Procession_ of Shame?"

Suki just groaned internally before pointing fiercely at Toph, her brow furrowing. "I so want benefits and extra hazard pay for this. You owe me at least dental."

"It's in your contract," waved off Toph, completely blasé. "Talk to Meng in HR. She'll take care of it…"

* * *

As they drove along the sleet- and ice-frosted roadways in the warm comfort of the Audi, Katara noticed Zuko's attention shifting, his furtive glances at her, the way he would blow out gusty breaths of air as if in frustration. She couldn't figure out what was bothering him. Even skirting the edges of their bond, he didn't give her any hint, other than he was working something out in his own mind.

"We don't have to go to the library on campus; the classes were cancelled today because of the storm last night. We can stay in," she offered as they came to a traffic light, and knew her cheeks were warming. _Just the car being toasty warm_, she told herself. _There are no expectations. Yet. _ "It's Friday; we can both just work in our office, or go to your place or my place…"

Then she grimaced and remembered that she'd effectively kicked Zuko out of her office the day before. _Oops…_

Deciding to try a different tact, she smiled and suggested shopping. "We could nip out to a few stores, pick up a few things I need to get my apartment up and running again?... Groceries, essentials, maybe a few housewares I was a _little_ too hard on last night," she tried again to add some levity, still watching him.

He stared at the road.

"Zuko?"

Still no reaction.

_Zuko? Are you ok? Is something wrong?_

A bit startled, his eyes widened and he glanced over at her and seemed to come back to himself.

"Sorry," he mumbled, and sighed again. "Just distracted this morning."

Still a bit unsure as to how things 'worked' between them and their… could they call it a 'fledgling' relationship?... Katara tentatively reached out and touched his sleeve, beseeching him with her eyes.

"What do you want to do?" she asked. "Coffee? Go out? Stay in?" She smiled again at him encouragingly. "Just keep driving?"

Exploring the status of their bond, she tried something new. She remembered before how he'd been able to project physical feelings of himself to her: the fluttering kisses on her forehead, the steadying pressure of a warm arm on her shoulder or back, squeezing her hand.

With awkward success, she tried to slip under his shields and tickle him—_instant reaction! _The bond overloaded with sensation, and his thoughts broke through like a tidal wave, washing over Katara's consciousness in a torrent of over-information.

—_I want to make love to you on a beach under the stars until you're trembling and clutching at my back and shoulders and crying my name with hoarse abandon,_ he confessed sincerely, suddenly, and with a force of genuine emotions behind his words. _I miss being a part of you, physically, and am trying not to overwhelm you and pull the car over onto the nearest side-street to thoroughly roger you in the backseat, leaving you gasping and sated. Could we please discuss something else? Your eyes on me are like flames that—_

Katara's jaw dropped, and she felt him slam down the barrier between them, muffling the bond.

Very quietly she heard him mumbling to himself, through the bond as it leaked around the barrier, _Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck, I have no self-control, fuck fuck fuck fuck she looks way too cute this morning—something different with her hair? Fuck fuck fuck want to cuddle with her on a couch fuck fuck fuck I should get her some new mittens, her hands look cold damnit fuck….._

Zuko's cheeks flared crimson, and Katara couldn't help it; she giggled. Perhaps it was the nerves and hysterics she'd been putting off for weeks, or just the fact that she probably was just a bit unbalanced these days, but she wasn't offended by he'd suggested. Admittedly, the initial burst of baser desires was shocking, but then she remembered some of what he'd said the day before and figured out where some of his erratic dialogue may be stemming from.

"How about breakfast first? Have you had your, uh, meal yet?" She asked, her cheeks warming a bit further, but her eyes bright with interest.

His cheeks went a bit pinker. "I accidentally skipped it. I was too excited to see you again. It's at home, ready, in the fridge."

"Would this be maybe why you're a bit less conservative through the bond?" she teased, trying not to make him feel bad about what he'd inadvertently shared.

"… I'm a bit hungry," he admitted with an embarrassed mumble.

Katara smiled again, and gave his arm a squeeze. "Let's start with getting you a drink, and then we'll plan our day. Sound good?"

He nodded, and mumbled a quick, "thank you."

"Happy to oblige," she answered; then sobered slightly, and squeezed his arm again. "I'm not going anywhere, Zuko. We'll get through things; we just need to give it some time to figure out what our new… 'normal' is, I guess. And getting you back on a regular feeding schedule is a start."

"Normally, what I had last night would have tided me over—I guess I'm just… running a little warmer than usual," he admitted. He stared out the windshield as the car continued on its way, ferrying them along in warm, quiet comfort. She nodded and sat back again, patting his arm unconsciously as they drove.

After a time Zuko nodded, coming to a decision. "Let's get you breakfast to bring home; we'll eat together, then see what needs doing… and maybe… maybe we could watch a movie together and cuddle on the couch?" he asked hopefully, his voice cautiously optimistic.

Feeling stupidly happy, Katara nodded and tried not to smile _too_ widely, giving away how adorable she found him in that moment. "Only if you have a really warm soft blanket to wrap around us."

"I will get you whatever blanket you want," he blurted; and then he blushed again.

Katara was worried her heart would melt into a puddle, spontaneously, inside his car on the passenger seat.

Harnessing the remnants of her composure—because she was about to lose it with how devastatingly handsome and accommodating and absolutely adorable he was being—she nodded. "I'm sure we can make do with what we have."

"And popcorn?"

"And popcorn," she agreed, biting her lip at how excited he looked. _Just like a little kid,_ she thought to herself, trying not to let the errant thought leak through their bond to him. She didn't think he'd appreciate being called 'cute' the same way she did.

Her heart beat a little harder in her chest in anticipation, and she ducked her head before looking out the window, just trying to smother her wide grin.

They both had it bad.

_Thank Spirits it was mutual._

The bond hummed a happy thrill between them.

* * *

Later that morning, Katara sighed contentedly and rubbed her rounded tummy. "For the record, I normally don't eat that much in a whole day," she said, and yawned. "You're spoiling me."

Zuko smirked and sipped at his O-positive from his opaque mug. "You may find you get tired more easily and need to eat more over the next little while, as you get used to your bending again," he answered. He kept his under strict control, to prevent him from needing to feed more than strictly necessary. The risk of exposure was too great if a vampire abused their bending skills and went on a ravenous killing spree.

She nodded and then winced when she tried to stretch, wrapping her arms around her middle and grunting a bit in discomfort.

Zuko looked about to panic before he remembered something, and stood up. "Wait here," he said and nipped out of the room before quickly returning with a pharmacy bag. "Here."

His cheeks were stained lightly pink, but otherwise he was all business as she accepted it.

"What… Oh," she said, and smiled crookedly before laughing again. "This bond has obvious benefits," she laughed, and he cracked a grin in return.

"You left them here when you left last time," he explained, and ran a hand through his head. "I thought, with you mentioning your, uh, cycle, this was why your tummy, that is…. They're yours," he finished awkwardly.

Katara had stilled at his words, though. "Last time?... I didn't have these with me last night."

It was Zuko's turn to tense, slowly, as he watched her, and a wash of sadness overtook him.

"When was I here before last night?" she asked in the quiet. He swallowed and watched her, warring with himself; she could tell by his posture and the way the bond vibrated jarringly when he was unsure.

"Zuko?"

He'd promised to tell her everything this time, no more secrets.

"How much do you remember from the night of your apartment's explosion?" he asked, leaning back against a counter, his long, pale fingers gripping the cold granite slab behind him.

Katara's brow furrowed as she thought back. "We walked into the apartment—you, Suki and I—and we were searching the rooms… I went to my room, and that's when I was hurt, I remember my head and arm being hurt… I think I lost consciousness then, because the next thing I remember is Jet and I… together… and then on the plane to see the Tribe…" She paused as she reflected on the events, and then shook her head, confused. "But that doesn't make sense—there's a week or so missing, when I think about the day we went to check the apartment, and the day we flew to the north… But…"

He could feel her struggling, battling against her common sense and what her instincts were trying to help her uncover.

"I'm missing time," she said hollowly, and a note of fear tinted her words. "Zuko, what happened? Why can't I remember?"

While he tried to be relieved that she felt fear instead of anger—it showed she trusted him, at least—Zuko could not help but swallow a trickle of unease as he started to relay to her, in as much detail as he could remember, the time she had stayed with him before; his late-night outings, their time together in his home; her visit from Jet—as a wolf she half-adopted—and the very last night, when he lost himself and attacked her; the fight that resulted between himself and Jet.

"He truly felt you were his mate, his wife," he added at the end, though only grudgingly. "While I have no respect for what he did to you in your Tribe, he did protect you with his life that night. It is the only reason I let him live," he admitted quietly.

"He probably did save your life from… me… when he separated us. Spirits Katara, I'm so sorry. I almost turned you," he brokenly confessed.

"But my memory," Katara said, still reeling from the events he'd relayed. Her tea was forgotten on the table as she sat in mute shock.

"It was Jet's idea to take you to your Tribe to recover. He was right, in a way; your Tribe has magic older than many other groups on Earth, and just being with them would have strengthened you again, healed many of your wounds. I had no idea he'd planned to manipulate that magic. I'm so sorry, Katara… I took away your memories, almost all of them, from that week to spare you from remembering things you weren't ready to accept yet. You were so damaged you slipped into your past-life, Yue's life, to heal us both when you caught sight of us outside; your mind just… I don't know. Maybe it just couldn't help itself and wanted to protect itself from so many crazy things happening to you?..." his voice drifted off, bathed in self-loathing and shame.

"_I'm so sorry,"_ he kept repeating, both aloud and through the bond.

Katara closed her eyes as she listened to him, and let herself simply feel. Feel the water in the room; feel her emotions; finally, feel the tendrils of magic that still lingered. The bond. Zuko's vampire-ness. Her own magical signature. There was power all around them, she realised.

Taking a meditative breath, she reached for the magic, reached for it and tried to draw it closer to her. It responded, but not strongly enough. It needed a conduit.

"I don't think I regressed that night," Katara said softly, opening her eyes to look at the repentant man before her. "I think I was responding to the magic. Was there water nearby?"

Dumbfounded, he nodded. "Yes, the ice and snow… Once we broke through the window…"

Nodding to herself, Katara focused and tried to pull the pieces together with her instincts and the flashes of memory that he'd shared with her.

"I think the magic, the bond, called to me; like it was trying to wake me to recognise you, Zuko. The older part of me recognised you first, that's all. Then, when my memories were buried, it slowed down the rest of the process. That's why when I reconnected with my Spirit-self again in the Tribe, the bond was able to secure itself more firmly. I think… the 'reconnection' seems to be connected to trauma, unfortunately," she said dryly. "Maybe I wasn't aware of it until I was able to sense the magic around me, again.

"Or something like that… I'm still learning. I could always try to 'heal' my head, to see if I could get the memories back? Do you still have that basin around?" Picturing herself water-bending-healing her own head, Katara looked up at Zuko.

"Maybe… let's give it a day or so before you heal again, just to give you a chance to get all your energy back," he counselled. He nodded to himself nonetheless, and straightened. "Yes, we can try tomorrow. I just wish we had another healer here to oversee things. Even my uncle, while not a healer, knew a lot about bending from all the forms. He may have had something that could have helped us."

"Iroh?"

"Yes. He was always interested in other cultures, other forms of bending… other magics, in a way. We lost touch a few centuries ago; I tried to get in contact with him several times, but we seem to keep missing each other. I was hoping when I found you, that he'd be nearby—don't ask why, I don't know, it was just a feeling—but after being in Ba Sing Se for months now, I haven't found him."

"Still no sign of him?"

"No physical sign of him. I can't kick the feeling that he's nearby—but I've checked all the teashops in town, and even the ones in the nearest cities—the vampire nobility can usually tell when another of their family is nearby. It used to help us with hunting and dividing territory. I have that sort of feeling; that he's close, but unless he's deliberately hiding from the vampire world I can't seem to get a clear trace on him. Then again, if Uncle doesn't want to be found…" he sighed, his arms dropping from the countertop to hang at his sides.

"Well," said Katara, rising from her seat at Zuko's kitchen table. "How about we put away breakfast, and decide what to do today? The weather looks like it's getting worse again out there," she remarked as she slid her dishes into the sink beside Zuko, and turned to him. "Though there are a few things I really should pick up before I move back into my own place."

"Well… " he began, but stopped.

Katara looked at him.

"There's… I know it is soon, but you should know that.. That is…"

"Zuko, out with it," she said, crossing her arms.

"If you want to save money, then… did you want to move in here?"

Katara stared at him.

"Yeah, I know, too soon after today's talk," he said quickly, holding up both hands in a gesture of patience. "But just… you could have your own room—a different room from last time, if you aren't comfortable with that one, once you get your memories back—and we could work together to finish your paper so you can move on with your degree, and we could maybe talk about our future together… Nevermind, forget it, I'm just putting it out there, you can, uh, ignore me." Incredibly uncomfortable, Zuko turned back to hunch over the sink and started running the water to wash their dishes.

Unsure, Katara nodded, and tried to make sense of her thoughts.

"Let's…"

"… take one day at a time?" he asked, grimacing at the cliché.

Katara took a deep breath and held it before nodding, albeit reluctantly, which made him feel slightly better.

"We need to, Zuko. We need to build a real relationship, not just enjoy the benefits and ignore the consequences of rash actions."

It was difficult for him to agree, but inside he felt the same way. They both knew this. Being soulbonded didn't mean 'instant relationship'—it didn't excuse them from responsibility, especially with so much happening around them.

Speaking of—

"Did you want to call the rest of your friends today, to see if they have any updates? About… the big-picture situation?"

Katara's shoulders slumped, and Zuko's head tilted to the side as he watched her.

"Still not talking to them?" he asked softly, the dishes in the sink clinking together quietly under the soapy water.

"It's not that we aren't talking," she said, obviously holding back.

"But?"

"I don't know," she said tiredly. "I just… I feel like I need space. A little bit more time to figure everything out."

"Do you want to work at your apartment this morning? I can collect you at noon to come over for the movie," he offered, adamantly ignoring his twinge of disappointment.

"No, no, it isn't that," she said, not sure how to explain. "I just… I think I'm still taking things in. I haven't had enough time to be on my own, and yet I feel like I kind of need to hurry to be with you at the same time."

"You don't need to do anything you don't want to, Katara," he said, lifting his hand from the water to shake it out and tuck a bit of loose hair behind her ear. Gently he cupped the back of her head and lifted her eyes to his. "If you need time, just ask. Ask me, and ask them. We can't completely empathise with you, but we know you've been to Hell and back these past few weeks. 'Needing space' is an understatement. We just want you to be happy and safe."

She nodded and smiled wryly at him.

"It _has_ been busy, hasn't it?" she drawled, brow quirked.

He nodded, grinning back. "Even for a med student," he agreed, and was surprised when Katara groaned.

"Right. School, how could I forget…" She let out a breath, considering. "I need to feel productive," she said finally. "I will feel worse if I slack off all day, even if there are far more important things to do, saving-the-world-wise," she admitted. "If I miss any more class time, my scholarship will be in jeopardy."

"Then slog through things here this morning. I'll bring you food and books. I'll work in my office, so you'll have some time to yourself while you work," he let go of her after placing a small kiss on her forehead. "Does this work?"

She smirked up at him, and then rose on her tippy toes to give him a chaste kiss on the mouth in appreciation.

"That sounds perfect. Movie this afternoon on the couch?"

Zuko beamed back at her, and, awestruck, Katara found her mouth go dry. He was devastatingly handsome when he smiled at her like that. It was a good thing it was his turn to speak, because her words were caught in her throat.

"Perfect," he murmured, and nipped her lips quickly in return.

The air between them hummed and warmed, and Katara was the first to break away, letting out a long, low breath to calm herself.

"Right, well, I'll be on the couch, waiting for you," she mumbled, pulling back. Then coloured like a bashful teenager, realising all the implications of what she'd just said. Mentally she cursed herself for being so easily turned on—… er, that was, so…

"Adorable. Genuine. Wonderful," Zuko said aloud at her emotional squeamishness.

"I'll bring you a snack in a few hours," he promised, feeling no small amount of pride at the reluctance in her voice at leaving him. He was sure he heard muffled—and mortified—cursing through their bond again, but let it go… for now.

Telling herself that _no, he was not her snack,_ Katara just nodded for her part and hurried to get her things from her bag.

Really, taking things slow was good for them. It really was. So what if her panties were ready to melt off? She could totally still work through distractions.

* * *

No, no she really couldn't, and she was a spectacular fool to have thought she could.

"How's it going?" Zuko asked, bringing her a tray of fruit, cheese, crackers, juice and chocolate, several hours later, as promised. With a devastating smile, no less. He leaned over the back of the couch, over her shoulder, and laid it down on the cushion beside her. As she shifted to look up at him, he was careful to balance it without tipping and waited for her reply, his face inches from hers.

"Getting better," she breathed, a bit wound at his proximity and trying not to eat him with her eyes. He looked more relaxed than he had in days, and it suited him.

Really, really suited him.

She was still staring at him when he looked down at her, his smile widening. "Need any help?" he asked lowly.

"Don't tease me like that when you smile that way," she muttered beseechingly, and grabbed at a piece of chocolate or four from the tray of offerings, stuffing them in her mouth to prevent herself from saying something incredibly stupid. Like asking him to hand feed her the slivers of velvety cocoa goodness while he smiled like that. Or melt it to paint it on his well-defined abs so she could lick—

Katara swivelled away and shovelled more chocolate in her mouth, praying her private thoughts were suitably shielded from their bond.

Pleased at her reaction and knowing she was trying to hide it from him, but being in an agreeable mood, Zuko nodded and back off. "Would you like some tea, too?"

"Please," she said around the food in her mouth, and turned her attention back to her work. She had to finish this. The sooner she finished, the sooner she could enjoy an afternoon relaxing with him, together, and feel like she'd halfway earned it the respite.

_Or something equally as satisfying. _

Katara sighed with a hint of frustration. Just… how was it that the closer they became emotionally, mentally, the more attractive he became to her? How was she supposed to take things slowly when the bond was obviously messing with her hormones—to near-overwhelming effect.

She grabbed at the juice and took a long swig just as Zuko turned away, saying, "Hmm, yes, tea—you'll definitely feel better once we get something hot in you."

His low chuckle at her choking, spluttering mess confirmed he'd deliberately baited her.

Katara's anger flared. Oh, that did it. She was getting him back.

—_as soon as this work is out of the way…. _

Thoroughly frustrated, Katara bent back over her books with renewed conviction.

Pausing in the doorway to look over his shoulder, Zuko smiled to himself proudly. This was his Katara; she was coming back.

* * *

Hours later, as afternoon and light faded to early evening, Zuko pulled a pizza from the oven and set it on the counter to cool as Katara gathered up her books and sorted them back in her bag.

"I'm just going to leave my bag by the door to the garage, ok?" she called.

"Ok. What did you want to drink with the pizza and popcorn?" he asked, dumping the microwaved bag into a bowl to share next. "Tea?"

"Water's fine," she said firmly, pretending to ignore his teasing and filling up a pitcher in the sink as she joined him. "Do you need any help carrying things over?"

"Could you grab the strawberries & chocolate sauce?"

Katara gaped at him.

He glanced over his shoulder at her. "Hm?"

"How did you have time to do all this when you were working this afternoon?" she exclaimed. Oh Spirits, it was a _big_ bowl of strawberries, too. Her mouth watered at their bright colouring and juicy texture.

"Ah, yeah… I actually finished my work for your department several weeks ago. I spent all day making you food and drinks. You still like strawberries, right?"

"… yes," she said in a small voice. Liked? Try loved. Oh, and there was leftover pomelo and cherries from breakfast on the side! Her healthy inside voice cheered in appreciation.

"Good. Then I get to feed them to you tonight while we watch, "Muppets"," he affirmed, and walked the food back to the coffee table. "You ready?" he called, turning the TV on. "I have it primed on the media hub."

Looking up at him again, waiting there on the couch and holding the side of the blanket up for her to join him, Katara felt her heart swell.

Some of her favourite foods, heartfelt encouragement while she worked, a campy movie, and a cuddle-buddy.

—and apart from some minor teasing, no overtly sexual advances.

Yes, she was ready.

Biting her lip, she brought the tray with the water, fruit, chocolate sauce and cups, and after only a moment's hesitation, slipped under the blanket and tucked herself into Zuko's side.

When he gently wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her just a teeny bit closer, she couldn't help her happy sigh.

It had been a damn near perfect day.

* * *

**TBC.**

**AN: Admittedly not thrilled with this chapter (it feels a bit scattered, emotionally), but no sense keeping you waiting indefinitely. ;) Next update, Friday, November 30, 2012!**


	46. Chapter 46

**AN: This chapter is a bit late due to me needing to write 15,000 words today to catch up and make NaNo. Sorry! Also, the bulk of this chapter was written two years ago; while I was perhaps… less than perfectly sober. Or even remotely sober. It reads a bit more like narration (and less like action) than most of the other chapters. Apologies if this throws off the feeling of the story.  
**

**Merits 46**

* * *

Jet tried approaching from the forests surrounding Zuko's massive home, but wards pushed him away and confused his sense of direction. Over and over he skulked and explored the perimeter, and over and over was rebuffed, unable to get close enough to even see the outline of the property.

He was tired, half-frozen from the wet winter weather, and at his wit's end, but unable to give up.

He knew she was there.

He had smelled her when she had ridden in Zuko's car, and followed them back to this very area.

But still he could not get close enough to her to connect with her.

After so long without her, he would lose her? Again?

Anger and frustration burned within his heart, and he growled low in his throat. There had to be a way in.

Memories, painful and poignant, assaulted his senses as he dipped and wove between the trees, searching for a way in.

* * *

From his earliest memories, she was there.

As a cub, he had curled up in her lap after hours of play; their parents leaving them to bond together as playmates before they could even properly walk. Because it was in his blood, as her destiny was in hers—he would be her bodyguard, her shield—and she would forever hold his heart.

She was a Daughter of the Moon, blessed among her tribe, revered by his.

Her long, dark hair, her beautiful blue eyes; they enchanted him before he even knew what he was.

Together, they were soulmates.

* * *

From dawn to dusk he trained, and from dusk to dawn he never slept more than a few meters from her pallet.

While he was with his brothers and friends, he always knew where she was. It was instinctual. Sometimes in his mind he could even catch glimpses of things she saw through her own eyes. It took some getting used to when she would catch sight of what he saw, too.

Her laughter warmed his heart, and he knew his presence brought her peace, particularly when her visions and prophecies brought her to her knees with despair or fear. While he would shake or tremble with the aftershocks of them, he did not share her affinity and connection to the visions in quite the same way. He always knew where to find her to console and soothe her, though, when they overwhelmed her.

Sometimes, at night, they would walk to the edge of a nearby lake and simply look out over the still water; she in her sleeping shift, he in his wolf-form, cocooned around her to keep her warm with his strong heart and thick fur. He never minded when she fell asleep against his side on those nights, preferring to listen to her calm, even breathing on the shore as the stars shone down on them rather than the sounds of the camp.

Because she was all he needed, all he wanted, all he lived for.

And she loved him simply for who he was.

_"Kéna," he murmured against her mind._

"_Jietu," she smiled back, curling into him._

When she had become a teenager, he prepared her willow-bark tea for the headaches and pains that resonated with her as she grew into her role, not only as a seer but as a woman.

He always knew when it would happen, before she did.

It was the only time she had ever ordered him away from her. Or felt embarrassed to be around him.

… though she always asked him to leave the tea before he departed. He had taken his wolf form and gone to spend some time with his brothers, who had all been through similar trials with their sisters, daughters and wives.

She forgave him within a few days; and thanked him the following month when he repeated the gesture.

* * *

That morning, he watched as she left her lodge with some of her female friends; they headed into the wood and disappeared amongst the trees, laughing and calling to each other.

Before she took her last step, though, she turned and gave him a smile. In his head, he heard a sweet murmur of where they were headed, and nodded in understanding, waving goodbye.

He replied, imagining himself kissing her cheek.

As her strong, slender figure passed through the treeline and out of sight, she sent a final image to him: her kissing his forehead in his sleep.

Jietu—Jet— felt his heart swell in his chest.

* * *

It was a long, long night. They had been attacked, and some of his brothers had taken critical injuries as they defended their sister-tribe.

She was there through it all, fighting among them with her magic, healing as many as she could between volleys of gunfire and smoke-bombs.

And when it was all over, he carried her back to her lodge in the early morning hours and watched over her, tending her as tenderly as he knew how.

When she woke, he was the first thing she saw; but he had already fallen asleep at her side, his hand wrapped protectively around hers.

When _he_woke, it was with her blanket wrapped around his shoulders.

* * *

She actually nagged at him to spend more time with his brothers; so he did, joining them when they left to visit the nearby town.

No one would serve them.

No one would accept their money or allow them to buy provisions.

The hotel and tavern turned them away and told them to stick to their own kind; they argued they were full when empty tables surrounded them.

When they were shoved out of the way by a group of drunken men returning to the hotel—the one they had just been turned away from—one of his brothers, still recovering from an injured side, fell and tore open his stitches.

When the tribesmen started calling for a doctor, the drunks turned and laughed at them.

It was a full three days later before Jet was released from the local jail.

* * *

But there were benefits to spending a few days with the less savoury elements in society.

The normally peaceful young man caught wind of an amateur boxing tournament that would be passing through that was looking for new talent. Rumour had it there was a cash prize.

An idea started forming in his mind.

He made a hundred dollars from a single fight.

—And signed up for the next tour that would pass through, in a few weeks' time.

* * *

Gradually, he came to spend more time away from his brothers than with them.

Kéna worried about him and begged him to stay.

He promised he was only saving some money so he would be able to ask the tribe for her hand in marriage, to release her from her vows with an offering they could not refuse.

He was disappointed when instead of looking elated at his proposal she shook her head and turned away.

* * *

During his last match, he won and won big.

He returned the next day to the tribe and gave over his entire purse to the Elders.

As he walked through their camp thereafter, he passed by the 'nursery' where the youngest pups were playing together with several older women overseeing them. The afternoon was bright and sunny. The wind blew the scent of the pines through their camp. The grassy patch where the pups were tripping over each other, some in their half-human form, was soft and on a whim he sat down and played with them, teaching them through play how to be wolves and men, to find their balance.

It was the first happiness he had felt in a long time. And pride.

Someday, he realized, he wanted his own litter of pups to play with, to lead. He wanted them to look up to him. He wanted to take his proper place and be an example they could be proud of.

He laughed and helped unwrap one puppy that had gotten his head stuck in corner of a blanket.

He felt his heart tug when he saw the same vision repeat in his head, enveloped in rich feelings of warmth and longing, and glanced up to find _her_watching them, too, with a pining smile.

* * *

They spoke at their evening meal, and he confided he had left his fighting behind him, having given everything he had to their tribe so they could use it to benefit their people.

They walked to the lake that night; and when they lay down together, it was as man and woman, not as priestess and shield.

* * *

There was a day he learned to hate.

Someone else was chosen instead of him.

The numbness twisted around him like a thick blanket, smothering him, leaving him gasping and clutching at his heart.

He was her closest friend. She, his. They had grown up together. They had defended and protected each other, fought side by side.

They were soulmates!

_By the lake, they'd-._

He swallowed thickly, the panic filtering in.

… and now, because of the debt they owed another tribe, a debt that surely his funds could have paid off, they were sending her away.

He felt betrayed by the Elders he had pledged his loyalty to.

Even worse, they separated her from him in preparation for her marriage.

_So they didn't even trust him, now?_

Every night he heard her weeping; and every night he felt talons sinking into his heart. Her agony was his. She wanted the arrangement no more than he did.

But despite their bond, their positions, their perfect symmetry, they were impotent to change their fate.

The day after her spouse's people came to collect her, he returned to the ring.

He had just heard there was a new fighter in town, looking to win big and make a name for him.

Lucky him, so was Jet.

* * *

He soon had to travel to towns further away, when the locals refused to let him enter the tournaments. They said he fought too much like a man possessed, like a demon.

And he no longer bothered hiding how quickly he could heal himself anymore.

Let them stare.

What did he have to lose anymore?

Once or twice, he felt Kéna's concern through their bond, remembered the day they both watched over the young pups cavorting playfully on the grass…

But she was in someone else's arms, and he needed to fill his nights with something else, something brutal.

Something that would let him forget, if only for a little while; only for one hour, one night at a time.

* * *

The threats began.

From the match organizers. From the bookies. From his own tribe.

His behaviour was too risky.

He was drawing too much attention.

He was embarrassing them.

He was winning, though, and they never complained about the money.

Until he stopped handing it over.

* * *

It was months since he had last felt her through their connection.

He was lying on his back on the shore of the lake, as a man, staring at the stars.

He wondered if Kéna had heard about his wild reputation, if she would be disappointed in him, if she would care.

He wondered if she was happy.

He hoped she was.

* * *

There were many things his money could buy him, now; he could afford many, many things, and made no point of hiding the fact.

Others did not care as much about where the money came from, anymore, either, he found. He was served in hotels, served in brothels, served in bars.

Served anywhere he wanted, whatever he wanted. Things he did not even remember requesting were offered to him, and he accepted and opened his wallet, shelling out money hand over fist. It was worthless to him, anyway.

He did not care what it did to his body. He was kind of hoping at some point one of the strange substances he ingested would poison or kill him. Take him away.

He was what could not even politely be called a drug addict.

At best, he was a lost cause.

Within a year of her leaving, he was starting to forget her. _Kéna._

_Finally_, he sighed to himself in relief, and wondered vaguely to himself what town he was in that night.

It didn't matter, though.

Nothing mattered anymore.

* * *

It happened in the very early morning.

Without a hint or clue, right out of the blue or some strange novel that he could have started reading from the middle, thrown into the action with no lead-up whatsoever.

_He smelled her._

He woke with a start, staring around him wildly.

Where was he? Where was she?

What had-?

Then he heard it—heard the sounds through her ears, saw glimpses of the horror through her eyes.

A vision she had had when she was a child; that he had observed through their bond.

But these were not the pictures she had shown him then.

They were happening now.

There was a massacre in his village.

* * *

It was over by the time he arrived.

His brothers' bodies, burned, many in pieces or skinned.

The village they had sworn to protect together lay smouldering, in ruins.

The women and Elders had been burned alive in the Main Lodge, from what he could tell.

But there was one who still struggled to live.

She had returned to him.

_And he had not been there._

As he sank to his knees and gently pulled the rubble from her, he saw there was no hope in saving her; she would have done it herself, if she could have.

But the beams that had fallen on her had crushed her, every part of her below her sternum. He could only imagine her suffering…

But she withheld that from him; it was the only way she felt she could protect him.

She had only remained alive long enough to bid him goodbye.

… though she did, as his last request, grant him the one thing he wanted most of all.

Her final vision, his last wish, was to know their identity: in his mind bloomed the outline of sharp fangs and golden eyes.

—And the direction they had departed in.

* * *

It took him years to track them all down.

But he did. Every. Last. One.

His pack had not been man-eating, by nature or by law. They had vowed to protect humans, and the rest of his brothers had.

He considered his oaths revoked, however, in his failure to protect those he loved.

Now, he saw it as his solemn duty to protect the rest of the otherworld from raids like his tribe had suffered.

It was not what he had intended, when he set out to find them. He had planned on taking out the leader and sending the rest to the authorities. Because even in their time, there were groups which protected otherworldly parties from each other and themselves. Who set rules and regulations, who kept the peace and maintained a kind of justice.

A balance.

But when he arrived at the camp to find the pelts of the pups strung up to dry, he lost all sense of reason.

Perhaps it was the drugs still running through his veins.

Perhaps it was simply his grief overwhelming him.

… he could admit to himself only that it was more vengeance than respect for the departed that motivated him, though.

Because for the first time, he killed.

Over.

And over.

And over.

Finally, he reached the leader: just as Kéna had shown him, gold eyes, sharp teeth.

His lips pulled back in a snarl, and he leapt at the pale throat.

* * *

Sokka and Aang set the medical report down.

"This was pieced together?"

Aang nodded solemnly. "From all the different institutions he's been locked up in."

"For the past hundred and twenty five years," murmured Sokka. "They thought they were psychotic delusions."

"How can he be over a hundred and twenty five years old?" Suki asked from beside him at the talbe. "It still doesn't make sense."

"I think I've found out here," Toph announced from the doorway. She walked over and started pacing.

"Suki, you mentioned the council of The Five a few times, right?"

Suki nodded, then added a verbal, "Yes," for Toph's benefit.

"Who are the members of The Five? The permanent members, I mean."

"There's the Fire Lord, Ozai. His brother, Iroh—though he's been missing for a long time; I'm not sure if he is still considered permanent. Next is Commander Zhao—he was known for leading massacres and pillaging several thousand years ago. Then we have Long Feng, of course. He's more recent than the others."

Sokka counted on his fingers, confused.

"That's only four; three point five if we aren't sure about Iroh."

"The last member is a reservation; it is meant for Ozai's heir."

"Then you mean, Zuko?"

Toph shook her head. "That's exactly what I mean, but no. We already know the others had no contact with Jet way back in the olden days. We have records showing none of these other freaky deakies were on the continent at that time. They were screwing around in Europe, as far as we could tell. I think we're getting closer to the answer, though."

Suki looked up at Toph, paling. "Ozai could have another heir?"

"What does that have to do with Jet?" Aang leaned forward, chin resting on his palm at the table.

"Bingo," said Toph, pointing at Aang. "I think we've narrowed down our missing piece."

"Long Feng was working to discredit Zuko—to wipe out the Slayers' Keep so Zuko couldn't regain his honour," Suki remembered aloud.

"And he was also the one who approached Jet at work," pointed out Sokka.

"But he wasn't the one who did something crazy and turned Jet immortal—and yes, I think that's what happened. We'll have to trap Jet to interrogate him to be sure, but I think that's where this is leading. Jet was turned, I'm sure of it." Toph addressed Suki. "Just like Long Feng was doing to those humans where you originally tracked him. But instead, someone did it to a werewolf."

"I really hope you're kidding, because this sounds like a really dangerous, bad idea. Turning werewolves into vampires?" Sokka's head thumped the table as it went down. "I did not need to know this was possible. Is this crazy sex magic again?"

"It would be done through blood exchange," clarified Suki, rubbing Sokka's back. "There there, dear, you'll get used to it. We haven't even started in on reavers, yet," she said soothingly.

"Oh goodie," muttered Sokka, muffled by the table.

"Anyway, getting back to business," Toph huffed, and slapped away Aang's hand when he tried to rub her back. "I don't think Jet would have made it long in an institution if he needed blood regularly; maybe his 'were-dom cancels out the blood lust? Who knows—but if he's been turned, it would explain his possible immortal-ness."

"And it would mean Long Feng was looking to score big points with that person if he was helping them," Suki added, tapping a finger to her mouth and nodding.

"Especially if he's the newest one on Team Fiver; he's gotta earn his street cred," agreed Aang.

Every looked at Aang dubiously for a moment; he just shrugged. "Anachronistic but a relevant modern social context."

Head still glued to the table's surface, Sokka raised a fist in solidarity. "Keepin' it real, Aang."

Resisting the urge to smack them both—barely—Toph took a breath and let it out slowly.

"Why do I put up with this," she muttered under her breath; somehow, she knew Suki had to be a sympathizer.

Toph straightened once more to face them all. "Right, so, we know we have to dig deeper in to The Five—and we need to find the connection between Jet and The Five. Why is Zuko being set up to fail, and… you know, let's just start with that. Once we have that, we call in Zuko and Katara and get everyone on board. In the meantime, I'm going to see if I can reach my Mother and see if her Kaiser Sousei has any unsavoury networking links we can extort."

"Your mom is part of the great Underworld, too?" asked Sokka, aghast. He had finally raised his head from the table. He pictured the petite, dour-faced lady Toph had introduced him to several years prior. She really wasn't the type.

"Not my mom—my Mother. Jun. My supervisor witch, in a way. Like, mentor."

"She's the one who taught you to drink me under the table and cheat at arm wrestling, isn't she?"

"Yeah, she's pretty cool," grinned Toph.

"We're so screwed," he muttered against the tabletop again.

"Wimp," scoffed Toph, and she clapped at them all. "All right, people, let's get hopping! We have vamps to vet and mystical mysteries to unravel and Suki, I believe you are procrastinating about talking to Zuko."

Suki made a pained noise in the back of her throat, eerily reminiscent of a whine.

"That's the kind of enthusiasm I like to hear in my team! Now, chop-chop!"

* * *

**TBC**

**AN: This ends the 'Regular NaNo Update' schedule for November; and I apologise again for the lateness of it. And the fact that this one is completely unbeta'd. I'm unsure what the schedule will be like going forward—my husband and kids need me back in wife/mother-mode for the next month or so, with holidays coming.**

**Thanks for reading, and many, many thanks to those who've commented! I'm sorry I haven't replied yet – NaNo was a monster this year. (Congrats to all you participants out there, whether you made your 50K or not-you were amazing!)**


	47. Chapter 47

**Merits 47**

* * *

"Your hair has changed."

Zuko quirked an eyebrow at Katara, a hint of a blush on his cheeks. It was nearing 'curfew', and with only a single lamp in the room on, their little oasis remained cozy and dim. He had lowered the volume on the movie as the end credits scrawled on the screen, and they cuddled together on the couch under the shared blanket.

"I… I remember. It was different before… I remember touching it, running my fingers through it."

"We enjoyed doing that to each other," he said quietly. "And yes, my hair was longer then. Long enough to tie back in a queue."

She looked up at him and bit her lower lip, pulling it slightly into her mouth to do so. His gaze was riveted to its supple movement.

"You want to play with my hair?" he asked, bemused.

She grinned shyly at him, and bit her lip again. "And…"

He looked at her expectantly.

"I want you to play with mine again. With… with your er, longer nails? Could I see them? I'm curious," she admitted awkwardly, eyes bright.

"You've been wanting to ask for a while, haven't you?" he sighed. He had been hoping that when she asked him something like this, her request would be prompted by more than scientific experimentation.

"Yes. But it's not just the medical morphology Zuko," she explained, sensing his disappointment through their bond. Taking his hand in hers she turned to him and pulled his hand to her face. Closing her eyes she leaned into his palm. "Do you know how hard it is for me to ask for this? Geez… Zuko I just… Could you please… touch… me?"

He swallowed. Words failed him, and his lips met so tightly they could have been sealed that way.

"It doesn't have to be intimacy. I'm just… Could I please have… affection?" she asked tiredly, quietly, desperately.

Swallowing once more over the lump in his throat, he nodded after a moment. "I think I can do that. Katara," he said, voice thick, and she opened her eyes and met his.

_Tell me,_ he spoke to her as gently as he could, and raised his other hand to the other side of her face, caressing the apple of her cheek with the pad of his thumb. _You need to tell me how much, how hard, how soft, how fast._

Slowly, gradually, his fingertips lengthened to the talons of the past; they skimmed her skin lightly before tracing her ear and leading into the thick locks of her wavy hair.

_Is this okay?_ He asked hesitantly.

_This is enough, for now,_ she breathed happily as his fingers gently reached into her hair and massaged her scalp. Practically purring through the bond, she nuzzled his palm again. _This is enough._

Smiling, Zuko sighed and closed his eyes, enjoying touching her again, finally.

_How does your neck feel?_ He murmured, his thumbs sliding back and down, to knead firmly at the knots he found.

"_Mmmmm,"_ she moaned aloud. _In deep need of attention, now that I think about it._

His answering chuckle was pleased and made her smile to herself warmly.

After a few minutes they found themselves leaning further into each other, his arms around her as they rubbed up and down her spine, working out every knot, lump and bump; for her part, Katara's hands had slipped from Zuko's hands to his shoulders, and now wrapped around him, simply holding him. Together they remained, heart to heart, breathing in and out together.

Warmth soon grew to heat, and the touch became firmer, more deliberate; yet never strayed to inappropriate.

"Thank you," she whispered, her face pressed into his shoulder.

"Anytime," he murmured, dropping a light kiss on her head, never faltering in his ministrations.

They made it back to Toph's condo just after 'curfew'; and once Zuko had seen Katara to her bedroom door, he was met by one irked and hopefully unarmed vampire slayer.

"…Zuko, we need to talk," Suki announced with resignation.

He had been worried this was coming.

* * *

**TBC.**

AN: I apologise for the tiny, likely unsatisfying chapter. I've been trying to upload for days, and it has not worked (part keeps getting cut off). I'm hoping this much shows up okay, and I will try and have another update by this weekend to make up for it. Take care! -mm


	48. Chapter 48

**Merits 48**

* * *

"Well?"

Steeling herself for what she knew would be a Sisyphean task, Suki took a deep, calming breath.

"I owe you a huge apology, Zuko. I judged you, I made assumptions, and I treated you horribly—especially when we were supposed to have been working together to protect Katara." Suki paused and swallowed before lifting her midnight blue eyes to meet his again. "It was unprofessional of me, and unfair to you. You might be undead, and crown prince Zuko Sozin of the Vampire Throne, but you have shown incredible dedication and self-sacrifice since the moment we met. I might even venture that you do, indeed, possess a soul."

"That's a bit blasphemous, isn't it?" he challenged.

"No," she said, shaking her head slowly, knowingly. "I think there's more to you than the average vampire. I think…" She broke off when he huffed in irritation. "Fine. But you're not a run-of-the-mill vamp, no matter how much you act the Vampire of Vampires trope. I _am_ sure of that."

Cautious in nearly every situation, but even moreso now that he was unsure where he stood officially with the vampire slayer, Zuko waited for her to continue.

"What I'm trying to say is that… we trust you, Zuko. We know you care for Katara, and that you also care for what she stood for. You aren't out to use her or get things out of this for yourself. We want you as part of the team."

"Team?"

"The Fight The End of the World Team," she said with a crooked grin. "A mouthful, but it was better than the acronyms Aang and Sokka were trying to come up with."

"… oh."

It was her turn to wait—and she crossed her arms and arched a brow at him as she did so.

"So… what do you need me to do?" he asked after a few moments of reflection.

"I'm so glad you asked." Suki breathed a sigh of relief. "Well, for starters, Toph has asked me to relay a few ground rules when it comes to dropping Katara off at home for curfew…"

* * *

"So it went well?" Sokka asked, pulling Suki's feet up into his lap that night as they relaxed on the couch.

"It did, actually. Zuko… doesn't seem as evil as I was expecting."

Massaging her arches and working his way up, Sokka nodded. "I know it sounds odd, but I think we can trust him this time around."

"We kind of have to," Suki retorted. "Oh yes, there, right there, thanks." Sokka's thumbs pressed firmly and worked out the aches and knots in her lower calves; Suki swallowed a groan of release as he worked his magic higher.

"Did you talk much about the _Situation_?"

"No, we're going to meet up tomorrow to go over things. Apparently he's going to take Katara shopping, and then drop her off at her apartment so she can start setting herself up again. We're going to meet across the street at a little bakery. It'll be close but it won't suffocate her. I'm getting the feeling Katara kind of likes her independence," she said dryly.

"You could say that," he grinned.

"So, what are your plans for tomorrow?"

He glanced up at her again to gauge her reaction. "Mind if I tag along? I agree it is time we start bringing Zuko into the fold, and I'd like to be there for when you two talk shop. I think I could learn a lot," Sokka admitted.

"Sure. You're a fast learner, you'll catch on quick," she assured him.

"Suki?" he said after a moment.

"Hmm?"

"Thanks. For not shutting me out. I know you, Aang, and Toph—and now Zuko—are all part of this big secret society, and I'm definitely not. You guys could have pushed me out and left me in the dark—but you didn't. Thank you for trusting me. For giving me something to do. For letting me help."

Suki stretched forward and ran a hand down Sokka's stubble-roughened cheek. Something passed behind her deep blue eyes and he waited for her to speak.

"That was actually Toph," she confessed after a small internal debate. "I didn't think it was a good idea to bring you in; but Toph insisted you were one of the 'Best'," she emphasized the word the way Toph would, making them both smile. "I didn't believe her—until you showed up to rescue me."

"Well, to be fair, you were outnumbered a jillion to one with those crazy vampire soldiers—what kind of jerk would I be to just _leave_ you there?... And Toph said we needed to get you out of there and that Katara was covered…"

"Uh huh. You just wanted to play hero, we all know it," she teased. Then she nudged him as he gradually stilled. Her voice softened. "But you didn't need to do that is what I'm saying; you'd barely met me, and you'd made it very clear you wanted no part of things initially, that you thought we were loony, and at that point we weren't even sure you believed us. It was risky to bring you in, Sokka, you had to understand our position." She paused. "I will admit, it was a relief seeing you come around the corner that day, though." She shook her head. "I owe you one."

Catching her hand, Sokka shook his head. "I'm not a hero, Suki. And I don't do things like that expecting to be repaid. I'm not like the rest of you. I can't treat this the same way the rest of you do—I'm not in this for the rest of the world. I'm in this for my family, for my friends. And now…" He paused, thinking; then changed tactics. "Things changed for me when I almost saw you die that day, Suki. You were covered in wounds, and yet the entire path to get to you was littered with vampire bodies—or what was left of them. I saw firsthand just how deadly you were; and as one soldier to another, you don't walk away from a comrade who needs your help. I saw what you could do single-handed. I was in awe of how strong you were, how capable. In that moment, I knew you were one of the ones we needed to keep on our side. Katara needs you." He squeezed her hand. "Sitting with you through your recovery in the sick bay, instead of feeling like an outsider, you let me stay at your bedside with you and ask you questions so I could learn. I learned I needed you, too. After you healed, we sparred together; and I was amazed at how good a teacher you were. I can't let you go. This time, I fight for you, too."

"If you're trying to get me to—" she teased, but Sokka shook his head fiercely.

"No. I just… I want you to know I'm glad we met; I'm glad we've trained together; I'm glad we _are_ together. You're a very special woman, Suki, and… thank you for giving up so much for Katara. For Toph. For all of us—oh, and for the world."

Squeezing his hand, she smiled ruefully.

"If I don't… there isn't much world left, is there?"

At her words he sobered; and they both fell silent.

"No," he agreed after a time. "There isn't."

* * *

**TBC.**

AN: Crossing fingers that the uploading problems are finished! Next update: Next weekend (possibly Saturday or Sunday). Thanks for a great year, all! Happy Holidays!

This chapter uploaded Dec 23, 2012. MM.


	49. Chapter 49

**Merits 49**

* * *

(Katara's apartment)

"You're sure you don't need help?"

Zuko held open a cabinet door as Katara loaded the pile of dishware safely inside. (After hearing about the tussle she and Zuko had had there previously) Toph had hired a professional crew to complete the repairs and cleaning prior to Katara moving back in and Katara was aching to get herself resettled.

"Zuko, one thing you need to learn is that most women like to be nested; we enjoy adventures but at the end of the day we need a place to call our own where we call the shots," she nodded at him to move again. He obliged. "I need to get things unpacked and as much as I lo—like having you around, I think you'd be in the way," she admitted, catching herself as she stumbled over her words for a second.

"Not deliberately in the way of course, but I'd probably better do this myself."

"And you need space," he stated.

Her busy hand stilled for a moment before she turned and looked for the next pile of dishes to put away.

"I just need some time to myself to take everything in. We have this afternoon together—I just want to put things in order first. You know?"

Both were silent then as her words sank in. Deliberately she turned to get another box, her knuckles white as she carried it to the counter.

When she glanced over her shoulder to look at him again though, their eyes met and her breath caught in her throat at the emotion he withheld.

"Yeah, I know," he said, voice heavy with meaning.

It hit her then that of course he knew about putting things in order; he had spent the past century and a half putting himself through Hell for it. And here she was, asking him for more time. He was holding back for her again. And he was not pushing for more. Katara was amazed he had not let even a hint of this longing leak through to her via their bond; he really had been working on their autonomy… for her.

It was when he smiled at her, both gentle and heartbreaking and above all _knowing_, that she felt more than heard his response.

Inside her, Katara felt her heart move; her spirit rise; her mood soar in a mix of yearning, anticipation and sympathy.

He loved her enough to wait.

"Thank you," she whispered, finally calming.

Leaning against the doorway, he nodded, still smiling sadly.

He made to take a step towards her and she reciprocated on instinct; but then he pulled his hand back and his expression turned rueful.

"I'll let you get back to work. I'll just be downstairs with Suki and Sokka at the coffee shop if you need me. Okay?"

Trying to relax her racing heartbeat, Katara smiled brightly. "Sounds good," she tried to be enthusiastic.

Then he leaned down just enough—

"_Until this afternoon,"_ he whispered, his lips brushing sweetly against her ear.

With a deft squeeze of her hand, he left.

Alone, her hand still warm from his, Katara stared at the ceiling and took a deep breath before focusing back on her 'resettling' in more ways than one.

* * *

When Zuko arrived at the coffee shop Suki and Sokka were already waiting for him; they waved him over like an old friend.

For the first time in a long time, Zuko did not hesitate to wave back.

He joined them.

* * *

From outside the small bakery café, a pair of golden-brown eyes blinked as they noted the encounter before turning their nose up in the air and scenting their prey.

"Nowhere to go but up," the spy thought to himself with a feral grin.

With a last glance at the trio at the table, he looked down at his cell phone and sent his message.

_On my way up_, it read.

As he exited the 'borrowed' car, he felt his phone buzz against his thigh. _Message received_.

Finally, it was time to collect what was his.

* * *

"—so that's what we've come up with. We were wondering if you had any idea who else could be part of _The Five_, or trying to stop you, or get Katara, or—"

Sokka broke off as he watched Zuko's face go pale.

"You don't know?" the vampire breathed, incredulous.

"No, that's why we're asking you—" Sokka said impatiently, as if Zuko was an idiot.

But Zuko was shaking his head.

"No, no, I mean you didn't know who it was? I thought it was obvious." He turned to stare at Suki. "Kiyoshi's Warriors didn't know?"

"Know. What?" Suki repeated and stared at him intently.

"The one who's been trying to get Katara. For my father," said Zuko, volume and anger rising. His fingers clenched around his cup, and Sokka eased back in his seat in caution.

"I knew we should have brought you in sooner," growled Sokka in frustration. "Damnit!"

"Sokka!" chastised Suki, but Zuko was shaking his head, rising from his seat. A bad feeling had risen in his chest making it tighten to the point of pain. Through the bond he reached for Katara.

"No, he's right, you should have involved me sooner!" Zuko glanced up at Katara's apartment; and realised then that the weather had turned for the worse and he could barely see across the road.

"This isn't a normal storm," he suddenly realised aloud.

The three looked at each other.

Then without a word they shoved their way out and made for the door.

_Katara?_

There was a hum of recognition, which was quickly followed by her reply.

_Yes? Oh, hold on a second, there's a neighbour at the door._

Zuko's eyes widened as he sprinted for the café door, ignoring the call from the cashier to pay for his coffee.

_Don't! Katara, it isn't your neighbour!_

* * *

The private hangar at the airport that morning displayed an eye-popping array of flashy luxury imports awaiting their master's arrival. While the sleek chopper landed and was escorted inside the bright building, the occupants looked out of the windows at the dreary weather with a variety of reactions.

"Look at all the snow!"

"Tell me again, why did we leave your family's resort villa for this?"

"Girls, girls, the villa is so last week. We need to explore more of the world and expand our horizons," lectured the leader as the vehicle came to a halt. From her breast pocket she pulled out a vibrating smart phone and sent a quick reply. A hint of a smile pulled at the corners of her mouth, chilling to behold. "Besides, wouldn't you say it was getting boring, Mai?"

"Boring is better than cold," sulked the jet-haired woman.

"We can build forts and have a snowball fight!" crowed Ty Lee, her avid face pressed up against the glass. "And go sledding, and skating, and make snow angels…"

At the last suggestion, Mai and Azula's gazes crossed and the two snickered. _Angels_ indeed – but only if they got to add hints of icicle fangs to the frozen imprints thereafter.

"Of course, Ty Lee, we'll all go make snow angels together in the park," Azula assured her friend with a patronizing pat on the arm. "But first, we should go greet our family in the area. It's only polite."

Ty Lee looked back at Azula curiously, just as the door to the chopper slid open and a porter came to help them out; later, he would transport their luggage to the awaiting car of their choosing. Later still, he may end up as a snack, not that the man was fully aware of any of the goings-on.

"You have family in this area? I thought everyone you knew was at the villa?"

Ty Lee's eyes widened slowly and she glanced at Mai who in turn watched Azula intently.

"Well, not quite everyone," the confident woman smiled, baring elegant, nearly translucent white teeth. "I thought we'd go visit with poor, abandoned brother dearest. It's been nearly fifty years – surely he's missed his only sibling?" Heaving a melodramatic sigh through her full, blood-red lips and shrugging her shoulders for effect, Azula turned her head almost sadly towards the automobiles. Her 'hurt' act slid away seamlessly, and her eyes hooded deeply in appreciation at the sight—her minions had followed her instructions to the letter.

The other two followed the direction of Azula's focus. The luxury cars gleamed under the bright lighting of the private hangar and beckoned to be taken for a test drive.

"We need at least a three-seater," remarked Ty Lee thoughtfully with a hand at her chin, her other hand supporting her elbow.

"Ooh!" she exclaimed, suddenly pounding her fist into her hand. "What about three cars that match!"

Bypassing the Ferrari, the Maserati and the yellow Porsche (it looked too much like something a woman would drive maniacally through a walled Italian city), Azula stopped in front of the more practical option. It would handle the icy, snow-packed roads outside the airport's parking lot like they were an English country road in spring.

"Ty Lee, keep that idea in mind," ordered Azula, her lips curling into a shark's predatory smile. "We may need it later. In the meantime, pile in."

Still not having any fun Mai caught the keys Azula tossed her and settled into the driver's seat.

"So," sighed the maussade vampire. "Where are we going?"

A custom-tuned and modified engine growled to life as she turned the key; Ty Lee bounced into the back seat while Azula smartly clicked the door shut beside her.

"Hmmm, if I were a Zuzu, where would I be?" mused Azula pleasantly.

Mai pressed the hangar door auto-opener button on the remote in the car's ceiling. As soon as the gates had opened far enough for them to squeeze through, Mai floored it and the car leapt forward, feasting on the slippery conditions.

"Whee!" cheered Ty Lee.

"At least the car's not boring," said Mai with something akin to a smile, e-braking through a corner and controlling the resulting fishtail before setting off again at a leisurely eighty miles per hour.

"You always were a cherry-red-BMW-in-winter gal, Mai!" the rear passenger leaned forward to grin at her chauffeur. "But your Jaguar definitely suits your aura in the summer," she added, nodding solemnly.

"If we were at the villa, I'd be out in my Jaguar _now_," complained Mai. She hated leaving her baby in the care of others. No one treated it like she did.

"I'm sure your servants are taking marvelous care of it after what happened the _last_ time," soothed Azula. "For now, take the next left and we'll see if anything interesting is happening downtown."

"Yay! Party time!" Ty Lee leaned even further forward and turned the music on. The best club beats in the country flooded the car.

"I love the Blind Bandit!" she shouted to her friends over the _thump-thump-thump_ of the surround sound speakers. Flashing lights appeared and reflected inside the car a moment later, adding to Ty Lee's rave-tastic mood. The young woman started flowing with the music, dancing in her seat.

"I can tell," Mai murmured back. With a direction in mind, Mai dropped a gear and overtook the police car that had so rudely tried to steer her into the guardrail. Ty Lee leaned forward again and turned her favourite club music up louder.

"Mai, could you do something about our admirers, please?" inquired Azula, glancing at their unwanted uniformed escort.

"Whatever you say," Mai replied tiredly and directed their Beamer into the downtown core to shake off the trail of police, Marshals, and—she was certain—at least two Feds who had all taken up the chase.

"Hold on, Ty," she said, and the car shot forward like a bullet, catching air over a small hill before landing with a smooth _whump_ and speeding away again.

"Wheeeeee!"

"We're down to two," sighed Mai. "Okay, I guess we'll have to do it again. Hold on again, Ty, this one'll be faster."

"Yay!"

Completely at ease, Azula rested her hand in her chin and gazed out the window serenely.

"See you soon, Zuzu."

* * *

Already opening her door, Katara automatically tried to slam it shut when she heard Zuko's panicking instructions.

—But her visitor was quicker.

Her pulse raced as she felt it ripped from her hands and burst open, a tall, sickeningly familiar presence filling her entryway.

"Get out—!"

His claw-tipped fingers shot out to grab her around the throat, choking off her words and air. Instinctively Katara's hands grabbed his and tried to pull him loose as she reached mentally for the dishwater still bubbling in her sink.

"Honey, I'm home," Jet sang, eyes blazing hot and gold like a runaway sun.

Her eyes broke from his gaze and she focused on the sink.

'_Come to me, now!' _she commanded, and felt the water immediately swirl and rise.

'_Now freeze! Spear! __**Nownownow!**__'_

The sound of the water cracking instantly as it froze caught their attention. Jet's gaze followed hers and his mouth curled in a snarl in realization. He leapt out of the way but Katara's strike still caught him in the shoulder, making him flinch and his grip tighten further in anger. Her ocean-blue eyes bulged in pain and fear.

_Zuko! I'm sorry it was too late—please be careful!_

Already she was readying her next strike, but it was difficult to waterbend, speak to Zuko and still remain aware as her oxygen ran low.

Katara's heart beat loudly in her ears then began to fade. She tried to send a final message to Zuko in desperation.

_It's Je—_

Inches from her face Jet's teeth lengthened and pressed into his lower lip. Furious with her attack and sensing her preparing another, his next words were accompanied by narrowed eyes and an ugly lisp.

"That's no way to greet your _mate_, Katara!" Jet snapped and without another word smashed her into the nearest wall.

_-et…_

Then everything went dark.

* * *

**TBC.**

_AN: Thank you, renagrrl7, for working your sweet, sweet beta-magic on the Ozai's Angels portion of this chapter (when it was originally written, in 2008). _

_AN2: Last update for 2012—please enjoy another delicious cliffhanger. See you next year—happy 2013! -mm_


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